<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Volume 2: Invasion of Nova by Doug48</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358942">Volume 2: Invasion of Nova</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doug48/pseuds/Doug48'>Doug48</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>As You Sow, You Will Also Reap [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zootopia (2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Government, M/M, Military, Police, Romance, alternate universe - after pain collars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:47:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>45,068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doug48/pseuds/Doug48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>We start two years after the end of Volume 1, and then we'll go back to the same day, but later, when Volume 1 ended.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Finnick &amp; Judy Hopps, Nick Wilde/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>As You Sow, You Will Also Reap [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Z+2 Years: Zystopia Government House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Names of people were chosen based on their species or their roles in the movie. Names of places, and factions, were chosen based on the North American Civil War in the mid-19th century. </p><p>All dates are based around "Z-Day" which, in these stories, was the day the Confederation declared war on Zystopia. See Volume 1 and "Live by the Sword" for  other important, associated, dates and events.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A summary of events and expectations and current cast of high level characters, with Nick in the first person the way I usually prefer. A slightly longer than usual chapter. Several characters are missing, and I'll get into what they're doing [or not] in the chapters that follow.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I don’t like to be late, and I like to be physically present, at weekly council meetings. I don’t have to be. At least two council members are regularly holograms and business continues between the other members until I arrive. Actually, we started meeting less often after the first time I was the only one physically present. Much of the time, a simple group email is enough, but sometimes there are things that should be shared in a more open forum.  </p><p>This Monday morning, nearly everyone is in attendance. Mr. Bigg, representing the mammals of Zystopia in general and the citizens of Tundratown in particular; Dr. Glover for any technical questions that someone may have; Police Commissioner Bogo, for various issues related to law and order; Jack Savage, representing Bunnyborough and foreign relations; Colonel Hopper for the military; and John Smith for, well, everything else. Glover and Bogo are holograms, but not due to any distance constraints. Glover hates to be away from his labs and machine shops, and we hate to take him away from those activities. Bogo is not in the best of health, and so rarely travels anywhere.  </p><p>Queen Skylar III is not attending, despite my multiple requests.  </p><p>Talk does not cease when I enter the room. They used to do that, but I eventually convinced them that I wanted this council to be a team, and not just a collection of my yes mammals. It’s not that I dislike the ease of having 'yes mammals'. It’s just that it’s not very good government.</p><p>I unhurriedly take my place at the table and then tap on it with a claw to draw their attention away from the various one on one conversations. “Anyone have business that they wish to share with the group?”</p><p>Hopper took a quick look around and spoke up when no one else seemed to be ready yet. “Sir, I have an update on the military situation around Nova. Would the council like to see and hear it?”</p><p>He always calls me ‘sir.’ I don’t believe it’s because he respects me in particular, but rather, he wants everyone to be clear that any decision to have his mammals kill and die for Zystopia will not be his decision. Or not his alone, anyway. </p><p>I looked at the other faces, and no one seemed to have that look I used to associate with kids needing to use the restroom, so there were no emergencies at the moment. “Go ahead, colonel.”</p><p>The rabbit stood up and then activated the smart table by tapping icons near his chair. Two maps appeared above the table, both in three dimensions, with the City of Nova in the center of each. The maps were mirror images of each other, because we had found that some council members had trouble analyzing some of the data, further way, due to the large size of the table. </p><p>“Mammals. As you can see, the Union Army is in blue, our troops helping to protect the refugees are in green, and the Army of the Confederation is in red. Grey for buildings, black for roads, a different blue for water ways, etc,” the rabbit said. I knew that he wasn’t repeating this information because he thought nobody knew what the icons meant. He was doing it to give all of us non-military types longer to digest the information.</p><p>It wasn’t much different from last time, but the blue markers were more spread out around the city now, there were fewer red markers, and the green markers were closer to home.    </p><p>No one seemed to want to ask the obvious question, so John did it. “Is there anything we can do to save Nova?” He was looking mainly at the map nearest to his location at the table, and clearly trying not to look like he was blaming Hopper for the depressing military situation.</p><p>Hopper looked at Savage, who shrugged, as if to say 'you can tell them.' </p><p>“That situation has not changed since the last briefing. Time, numbers, and distance are still against us,” Hopper said. His ears were erect, and he gestured at the maps as he spoke. “Our best chance, now, to accomplish something like that would be to distract the Union Army by launching a spoiling attack against the Union positions to the west of us. However, we’re not yet ready for the kind of ‘all out’, large scale, offensive that would be required to pull the Union Army away from Nova, which is on the other side of the continent, as you can see. </p><p>“The Union Army around Nova numbers about 10,000 armored mammals, mainly elephants, and ten times that number of unarmored support troops of various kinds like deer and buffalo and such. The Confederation is down to something like 20 or 30 thousand soldiers of all kinds, most of them are not well equipped, and about half of them are trapped outside the city. We’ve got the new weapons, but only 10,000 soldiers and 300 tanks, currently,” the rabbit said, and tapped another control. The maps changed to a continental view that included Zystopia in the middle, Nova to the northeast , and the Union Empire mainly on the plains to the west. There was also a broad swath of Union blue, north of Zystopia beyond the forests, and west of Nova, where the Union army had marched overland after seizing a Confederation port city last year. </p><p>“Why didn’t they hit us first? We’re closer,” Bigg asked, possibly for the benefit of the other mammals here. “That would have simplified their logistics, at least.”</p><p>This time, it was Savage who answered. “They think they can gobble us up anytime, especially after the Confederation military is destroyed. We’re a walled city, and they’d like to be able to hit us from both sides at once. Also, it’s not like we’re actually going to be sending out any raiding parties to threaten their rear areas. Are we?”</p><p>Hopper shook his head. “I’d really rather not. We’re still integrating new equipment and training personnel. The more time we have before we have to fight the Union juggernaut, the more likely will be our chance of victory.” </p><p>One or two muzzles turned to the hologram of Dr. Glover, which appeared not to notice them. </p><p>I tapped on the table, and the squirrel’s image didn’t react. </p><p>“He’s got it on that screen saver again,” Bogo said, possibly to remind everyone that HE wasn’t using a screen saver. </p><p>“Right,” I said. “Let me see, what to say....</p><p>“GLOVER!” I shouted, and now the hologram reacted. </p><p>“Yes, Mr. Mayor?” The image said, looking at least a little startled. </p><p>“How goes efforts to improve our weapons?” I asked. </p><p>“It’s going,” he replied, but that was all he said. I knew he was reluctant to discuss this situation, and I knew why, but I really didn’t want to get into Glover's pacifistic views in front of the rest of the council, especially after talking about what was happening, and what would be happening, to Nova. </p><p>“Very well,” I replied. “Please go back to your work, but you may expect a call, or a visit, from me later today.”</p><p>The squirrel’s image nodded and then blinked out. </p><p>I caught Colonel Hopper’s eye, and asked a question. “How much help has Dr. Glover been? Improving our existing weapons systems?”</p><p>“Our equipment is far better than it was, and we have several new weapons and weapon systems. For example, our MBT-70’s have been greatly upgraded. Few obvious exterior changes, but the muzzle velocity of the main guns has gone up, and power to weight ratio of the engines as well. We’ve now got a workable autoloader and we've got the new anti-aircraft, anti-drone, and anti-artillery weapons mounted on various convenient hulls. We've got various transport vehicles now in development, with shields.” </p><p>“But our army is still not good enough to go toe to toe with that big ass Union Army?” John asked, and then realized the way Hopper might have taken it. “No offense.”</p><p>“None taken,” the rabbit replied and shrugged. “It’s the relative numbers and locations. Being on the defensive, here, with our other weapons, would be a force multiplier, such that 10,000 of our soldiers, even with unmodified equipment, could fight 40,000 or so of theirs. Also, the superior quality of our technology, especially the newer stuff, means we have a chance of winning against the enemy’s superior numbers even if we aren’t on the defensive. However, a wise mammal once said, ‘quantity has a quality all its own.’ If we go out and meet their army in the field, muzzle to muzzle, we’ll hurt them, but they might swamp us if our mammals, or even only some of our mammals, panic, or if they get around our flank. If that happens, we’ll lose our entire army and then we’ll see the Union soldiers enter Zystopia the same way Field Marshal Reynard’s mammals did two years ago.” </p><p>“Thank you, colonel,” I told the rabbit, and he sat back down. </p><p>“Mr. Bigg? Commissioner Bogo? Comments? How are the citizens?” I asked.</p><p>“Calm, for the most part,” the shrew said, and then looked at Bogo’s image, which nodded. </p><p>“We’ve been expecting this. Nova will fall, and the refugees here, and on the way, will not be surprised. Saddened, but not surprised,” Bogo’s image added. </p><p>“There are, of course, additional factors,” Bigg said. I nodded, knowing what he meant. </p><p>“We’ve discussed it before, several times, but the departure of so many skilled citizens when the Union asked all Loyalist to leave, hurt us. Also, we're expecting nearly 100,000 refugees which we’re still figuring out how to integrate. Some of them have the necessary skills to replace skilled mammals we lost, but many do not. Nova was, that is, IS not a climate controlled city, after all, so none of the refugees are going to be able to help in that area. </p><p>“I would have loved to say that the refugees were like a square pin that we can insert in the square hole left by the loyalists, but it hasn’t worked that way, or not entirely, and not yet. We’ve been housing the refugees in the abandoned loyalist homes and in some residences left over from the trials when those owners were found to have committed crimes mammal kind, so that part is going well.”</p><p>He looked at me. “Like the way we acquired this residence, for example.” </p><p>“Sure,” I replied. “But I’d like to remind you that the mammal that shot me was rather upset about it.”</p><p>“If we could return to the topic at hand?” Bogo asked. I waved and he continued. </p><p>“There is going to be lag time between any decision made by this council and then the effects of that decision and there will be unintended consequences. The decision to put the refugees to work, for example. We decided to do that before they arrived, so the lag time on that is minimized. However, there are some Zystopians that resent the refugees for taking their jobs, even though the jobs being done by those refugees are mostly the kind of jobs that Zystopians don’t want or can’t do.”</p><p>“It’s an old story. There are always people that would rather complain than contribute,” Jack Savage added. “If there is any good news here, and I know it’s not really good news, it’s that those complainers are talking about Novans rather than those of us from the Commonwealth.”</p><p>“Will there be more rioting?” I asked, looking around. The other council member didn’t seem to be taking Jack’s comments the wrong way. Colonel Hopper, as usual, was doing his best not be noticed, now that his contribution to the meeting was over. </p><p>“No, no I don’t expect that. Unless, for example, we do something like sending the Army somewhere and it takes heavy losses. That might cause some issues,” Bigg said. Bogo's image only frowned at that, and twitched an ear, saying nothing. </p><p>“To be clear, we’re not sending the Army anywhere at this time. We lost our window to do that during the fighting around Franklin several months ago, so we can’t save Nova. We can only save as many Novans as possible. And that we will do,” I reminded them, and they all nodded at that, even Hopper.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Notes: in my version of this, Zystopia can only be approached, by an army anyway, from two directions: East or West. The location of the City was chosen for this reason. It was going to be a symbolic bridge between the mammals with sharp teeth and the mammals without sharp teeth.</p><p>The next chapter will probably jump back in time to later the same day that Volume 1 ended. That is, Z+2 months.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nick, Francis, and Delgato</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Filling in some gaps. This chapter is 22 months before the previous chapter. The Confederation Army is still in the process of leaving Zystopia today, and someone has taken the opportunity to kill one of the members of the leadership group. Nick wants to know who did it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>At Government House</p><p>Z+60 Days, late afternoon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Delgato. You’re the chief of police. You’re supposed to know what happened,” I said, as patiently as I could. We were in my office on the 3rd floor of Government House, and Delgato had come to see me personally rather than use video phone.</p><p>There was no more smoke, so I knew the fire had been put out, and I knew, now, three hours later, that an armored limo had been shot up and then burned. Edward had gone in person the two blocks to look, and then came back with the news. I would really, really, rather have found out from the PDZ. Chief Hopps would have already informed my office, and then someone would have passed me the message. Instead, I had to rely on word of mouth for confirmation like any other mammal in the city. </p><p>You might be wondering why I didn’t rely on my TV or computer to give me the information? News in Zystopia isn’t the same as in other cities. TV news is heavily censored, so every mammal monitors certain web addresses instead. However, even these were slow to react to this story today, possibly because of the number of videos related to the departing Confederation Army and the fact that cars are typically burned by thieves to hide the evidence and encourage an insurance payout. Also, I suspect that those online journalist mammals don’t live very near the center of town, and many of them are apparently still unaware of the importance of this particular car fire. </p><p>“I’m sorry, sir,” the tiger replied, not meeting my eyes. His ears were nearly plastered to his head and his tail was almost between his legs. “It won’t happen again.”</p><p>“What do you know?” I asked, rubbing my eyes with a paw. </p><p>“I don’t know what happened. My officers have orders to go through the chain of command, and my leftenants haven’t forwarded any information to me,” he replied.  </p><p>He’s blaming his people? Not a great thing to do, and again, I can’t help but compare him to Hopps. She’d never do something like that. </p><p>“Ok. Do you know who’s in charge of the investigation? Or who will be?”</p><p>“I’ll-“ He started to say, and then paused when my intercom activated.</p><p>“Sir,” James’ voice said. “Colonel Francis is here, and he’s got several guards.”</p><p>“Well, send him up, without the guards,” I replied through the intercom. </p><p>“Ah, I don't think he's willing to do that, sir,” James replied. What he meant was that my father had flatly refused the suggestion, but James always tried to soften the hard edges of whoever he was talking to when he, James, passed their messages on to me.  </p><p>I hit a different button on my intercom panel. “Finn? My father is here with some friends.”</p><p>“On it,” he replied. At least I can count on him! Maybe he should be police chief? Nah, he’d never take the job, and anyway, he’d never bother to give them any instruction other than ‘don’t tell Nick’. </p><p>I turned back to the tiger, and pointed a claw. “Use your phone. Find out what happened,” I told him, jumped off the stool I always use when addressing a larger mammal, then went out the door, and into the hallway so I could see the lobby. </p><p> </p><p>Francis and three of his panthers were there. I had planned to see him later today, after I had more facts. He must have expected that, so he came to see me without being summoned. Several armed and unarmed members of my staff were nearby, watching the scene in the lobby. I didn’t see Finn, but I knew he was nearby.  </p><p>Francis looked up and saw me, so I nodded, and then walked down the stairs. I wanted to be able to talk more easily, and I wanted to be able to take his scent. </p><p>“Son,” he began, when I was close enough. “I am here to assure you that I had no part in the unfortunate shooting deaths of Fang Delrio and his driver. The shooting happened near my building, but my mammals were not involved.“</p><p>Fang Delrio? That’s whose car it was?</p><p>“I see,” I replied. His scent was entirely honest and apparently sincere. I knew my own scent betrayed my confusion. </p><p>“You didn’t know?” He asked, ignoring my guards. They weren’t ignoring him. His guards were clearly nervous, but they didn’t look like they would back down from a fight. They were, in fact, arranged in a triangle around their boss. I’m sure they were wearing body armor, and I could see their paws in jacket pockets, probably holding weapons.</p><p>“We’re gathering information. As you say, it happened closer to your building than mine,” I replied. I glanced back up toward my office, but I didn’t see Delgato. If he had any new information to share, he wasn’t showing it. </p><p>“What can you tell me about it?” I asked. </p><p>“I don't know who the shooter, or shooters, was, or were, but I know there were hundreds of rounds expended. Some sort of military equipment was probably used. Possibly several large mammal shooters with assault rifles. No weapons were found at the scene and the closed circuit, 'Jam Cams', are not operational in that area,” he said. His tone now was casual, as if describing the weather, or possibly, repeating a rehearsed script. Well, he has had several hours to think about it, and that’s if he didn’t have anything to do with arranging it. </p><p>I saw Lobo, the PDZ door guard, behind him and caught his eye, but continued speaking to Francis. </p><p>“Thank you, father. That’s very helpful. Please cooperate with the PDZ in their investigation,” I told him. I was not interested in continued conversation with him right now because I didn’t know much about what was going on, so I didn’t want him to stay. </p><p>He looked around, seemed to notice that no offer of refreshment or visiting my office was going to happen, and took the hint. “If you need anything, you know where I am.”</p><p>“Yes,” I replied, as he motioned to his guards. One went before him, and the other two lagged behind a moment. “I do.”</p><p>The door guard walked over after Francis and his guards left. “Who’s going to be running the investigation?” I asked.</p><p>“Sir? I’m not sure, but probably Detective Jubatus,” Sergeant Lobo replied. “He’s a good mammal, and a senior detective. Something like this will probably go to him.”</p><p>“Thanks,” I replied, and went looking for Delgato.  </p><p> </p><p>I found him still in my office, talking on his phone. I could tell from his tone, scent, and body language that the news wasn’t going to be good. I waited, and he eventually ended his call and turned to me. </p><p>“Well?” I asked. </p><p>“We don’t know who did it,” he said, turning toward me. </p><p>I waited, but that seemed to be all he had. No additional details. No information volunteered to try and prove his usefulness. “I see. Can you at least tell me which of your officers is going to be assigned to the case?”</p><p>“I’ll have to check the rotation, and see who’s next in line,” he replied, before turning away again. </p><p>“You-“ I began, and then changed my mind and didn’t say what I thought. “Well, why don’t you get back to PDZ and take care of that?”</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” he replied and left. I couldn’t help noticing that he seemed very relieved to be leaving.  </p><p> </p><p>“Well, he was good choice for chief, wasn’t he?” I asked no one in particular, as Finn walked in.</p><p>“Want me to kill him?” He asked. </p><p>“Which one?” I replied, with my own question. “And do you know anything about Delrio’s death?”</p><p>“Whichever one you want,” he replied. “And, no, I don’t know much yet. Word on the 'net seems to be that it was one of Reynard’s guys, but nobody seems to know why.”   </p><p>“Great, just great,” I replied.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>See chapter 40 of volume 1 for the day's events prior to this chapter.<br/>See chapters 18-19 of Volume 1 for more information about the relationship between Nick and Francis.<br/>See “Live by the Sword” for more information about Delrio.</p><p>PDZ: Police Department of Zystopia. Formerly, the ZPD.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Crime Scene</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cops looking at the shot up, and burned, limo in Zystopia, and talking about Delrio's assassination, on Z+60 Days.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The events of this chapter take place after the events of Chapter 40 of Volume 1.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Jubatus,” the rabbit said, nodding at the cheetah after passing under the police tape circling the crime scene near the internal, 'secret', police head quarters building across the square from Government House. </p><p>“Hopps,” the detective replied. He had been a patrol officer two months ago, and he was one of many recently promoted predators intended to fill vacancies caused by the trials, and executions, of most of the upper level officers at the old ZPD.   </p><p>Judy had just arrived, and Jubatus had been here poking around the burned out car for several hours. The bodies had already been removed and taken to the morgue. Cause of death was fairly obvious, but they would run some tests on what was left anyway. “What do we have?” The rabbit asked. </p><p>The cheetah turned away from one of the clusters of holes in the pavement and gestured at the rabbit. “We? What is this We crap? You going to try and pull rank on me, chief?”</p><p>“You know perfectly well that I don’t have that rank, anymore. His honor, the Mayor, replaced me with Delgato,” Leftenant Hopps replied. She had also noticed the holes and they seemed to spread out as they got further from one central location on the other side of the car.</p><p>“What a great choice…” The detective commented, apparently to no one. He noticed that Judy didn't sound particularly upset about her new rank. In fact, she was relieved. </p><p>Hopps thought about suggesting that a new detective shouldn’t be criticizing his superiors in a public setting like this, but then shrugged, and nodded at the burned out wreck. “Shot up by a tank? Or a mech?”</p><p>“Probably a mech,” the detective replied. “One point of origin for all the holes we’ve checked. Got some eyewitnesses said it was one of the smaller ones, and got some very brief, imprecise, video. Looks like a small one based on the shell casing and the holes in the pavement and sidewalk, and sounds like a gatling type weapon, like they have, and not an autocannon type weapon like the big ones have. </p><p>“Eyewitnesses aren’t very reliable," the cheetah continued. "And the video might have been a single, large mammal in armor. Nobody saw, or heard, a tank, and they sound rather unique.”</p><p>“Any help from the other locals?” Judy asked, with her back carefully turned toward the headquarters of the internal security police. </p><p>“Not much, no. I asked, politely, and was told that nobody saw anything. They’re going to check and then send mammals to us tomorrow if anyone has anything useful,” the cheetah replied. He didn’t bother to turn his back, but he also didn’t look at the nearby building either.</p><p>“Yeah. THAT doesn’t make them look at all guilty, does it?” The rabbit observed. ”Probably in there right now rehearsing their stories.”</p><p>“Sir? Call for you from Sergeant Lobo,” one of the other officers said to Jubatus. “Channel 3.”</p><p>“This is Jubatus,” the cheetah said into his radio.  </p><p>“This is Sergeant Lobo. His honor, the mayor, wants me to stay overtime, so I can’t meet you at the Watering Hole after work.”</p><p>Jubatus’ expression didn’t change, but Judy heard his heart rate go up a bit. “Sucks to be you. And next time? Just text me.”</p><p>“Well,” the cheetah said, releasing the talk button. “Want to join us?”</p><p> </p><p>The Watering Hole was the more or less official Precinct One cop bar. Most of the patrons were either PDZ or trusted friends, so the cheetah, wolf, and rabbit felt like they were free to discuss the situation more openly. </p><p>“So? Tell me what you heard,” the cheetah said to the wolf after they had sat down. As a small mammal, the rabbit was sitting in a chair on the table. Adult small mammals, do not, of course, use the kind of “high chairs” or booster seats that children use. </p><p>“Francis came to see his son, the mayor, this afternoon. Told Nick that he, Francis, didn’t have anything to do with whatever happened to Delrio. Gave Nick some birdshit about large mammals with assault rifles,” the wolf said. </p><p>Judy snorted, and the cheetah smirked. “How’d the mayor take it?”</p><p>“Surprised. He saw the smoke, sent Edward to look, and had Delgato on the carpet for an hour,” Sergeant Lobo replied. </p><p>Both Judy and Jubatus noticed what Lobo had not said, which was that Delgato must not have been much help to the mayor.  </p><p>“I’m thinking Nick will not want us to find out who really did it,” Judy said. "But I don't expect him to come right out and say it."</p><p>Jubatus looked a question at her. </p><p>“It’s his father, after all. Wouldn’t you protect your dad?” She asked, trying not to sound defensive. </p><p>“First,” Jubatus replied, and gestured with his paws. “They’re not very close. Second, we don’t know that Francis did it.”</p><p>The wolf didn’t, quite, choke on his beer, but it was Judy who spoke. </p><p>“Not very close? That’s not what I heard. Mind you, I heard it from Francis, but…Don’t all foxes stick together? We rabbits tend to look after our own. Blood is thicker than water and all that.”</p><p>“Yeah, but the Nick Wilde that Reynard rescued from prison is not the same one that we arrested five years ago,” Detective Jubatus said. </p><p>“You mean, the Nick Wilde that I arrested?” Leftenant Hopps replied. </p><p>“We, as in the old ZPD, arrested. We’re all legacy members, right?” the cheetah asked, looking at the other two mammals. They nodded.</p><p>“This Nick Wilde… He’s a different mammal,” Lobo said. “I knew him back when, and I’m telling you, this Nick Wilde is very different. The other one was lazy, indecisive, and self indulgent. This one? He drives himself very hard, and he’s very disinterested in anything that isn’t good for the city. </p><p>“As for who did it? Francis is the one that benefits. Field Marshal Reynard sticks a spy, an actual spy, on Francis, and then that spy gets murdered the day Reynard’s army leaves the city? That can’t be a coincidence.”</p><p>“We don’t know. At this point in an investigation, we have to keep open minds. Maybe it was some sort of rogue element in the Confederation Army,” the cheetah replied. “We don’t yet have much evidence. Francis is the logical choice, but the real killer would also know that.” </p><p>“I’m kind of surprised that Nick replaced you with Delgato, actually,” Lobo said, going back to a previous part of the conversation. </p><p>“I’m not. I was horrible at the job,” Judy replied. “Morale was low. Arrests were down, and -”</p><p>Jubatus interrupted her. “No. Morale was better than want we got now. Hell, everyone knew you’d beat the crap out of anyone that gave less than 110%, or, worse yet for the poor bastard that did it, anyone that abused his or her authority. And your policy of wall to wall counseling for anyone that lost their body cam footage? That wasn’t vey popular, but it was necessary, each of the, what, half dozen, times you did it. I can’t tell you how many civilians that I’ve spoken to that were very re-assured by that. </p><p>“No, he replaced you because he thought it was best for you, not the city,” Jubatus said. Lobo nodded, but Judy grimaced. </p><p>“Anyway, as I was saying,” Lobo put in. “If we can prove Francis had Delrio killed, I think we stand a good chance of actually putting Francis in jail for it. Nick will not cover for him.”</p><p>“So, hypothetically, he can’t get away with murder?” Judy asked. She tried to keep her expression and voice mild, but both predators could smell her intense interest in the answer.  </p><p>“Depends on who he murdered,” Jubatus replied, gesturing first with one paw and then the other. “And when he did it. Remember that Nick Wilde issued a kind of blanket pardon for killings, of certain prominent prey mammals, before the liberation. Sort of like the way it goes when one of us has to kill some one. It better be clean.” </p><p>“Circumstances like torture for example?” Judy asked. </p><p>“Eh? Doesn't sound like a hypothetical situation. Who are we talking about?” Lobo asked. </p><p>“Chief Sweeney,” the rabbit replied. “Bogo told me he got a DVD in the mail the day after the liberation, probably from Francis, and it was a recording of Sweeney’s death. Apparently, he did not go easy, or fast, to hell.”</p><p>“If any mammal deserved it…. “ Lobo muttered.</p><p>“Yeah, no argument there. So, even if we can’t get Francis for assassinating Delrio, we might be able to get him for torturing Sweeney. It's not exactly poetic justice, but I’ll take what we can get,” the big cat said, and the others nodded.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lobo didn’t text because he assumes the secret police monitor those. They also monitor police radio, but two cops talking about having to work over time won’t, probably, get flagged.</p><p>Fang Delrio was from the Cassandra office of counter intelligence. See "Live by the Sword" for more information about what he was doing in Zystopia before the liberation.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bellweather and the Army Commander</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Bellweather, having escaped to Union territory, west of Zystopia, talks about what happened.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Z+2 Months Shiloh. Northwest of Zystopia</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lamb’s first impression of the room had been its unnaturally large size. The ceiling was blue, with puffy white clouds. The floor was covered in live grass, which must have been a huge headache for some mammal, or several mammals, more likely. There was a single skylight in the ceiling, air conditioning, and, probably, some sort of built in sprinkler system for the floor. There were no chairs; there were only rocks, upon which one might sit. </p><p>‘Not bad,’ Bellweather Dawn thought, sitting on one of the rocks. ‘But not what I have done when I had this much space to mold and shape as I chose.’</p><p>That was an hour ago. Now her thoughts had turned to finding a way to escape. Not from a predator, but from a waste of time.</p><p>Her thoughts were interrupted when one of the doors on the east, sunny, side of the enclosure opened, and two buffaloes entered. One was old, and other young. One was dressed in the elaborate, apparently high ranking, uniform of the Union Army. The other one wore a simple, civilian suit. </p><p>The ewe got up to greet her host. “Comrade Army Commander,” she said, to the older one. She ignored the younger one, who could only be some sort of aide, and almost certainly a relative. </p><p>“Lady Bellweather,” the bull replied, taking one of her hooves and kissing it. “Please, resume your seat.” </p><p>“Thank you,” she replied. She noticed that the old bull didn’t sit on a rock nearby until after she had sat down. The younger bovine didn’t sit at all, but simply stood near his, apparent, master.</p><p>“Nice day, isn’t it?” The army commander said, much to the bellweather’s annoyance. </p><p>‘Why can’t he just get to the point?’ She wondered, but she was a guest here, and so must play the game. “Indeed. One might almost imagine that one is outside. But, there are no annoying insects.”</p><p>“Yes. We built it that way. There was talk of adding bugs, but only butterflies, and nothing too annoying. We’ve never gotten around to it,” the bull replied. </p><p>“Butterflies would be nice,” the lamb said. “Not my favorite insect, however. Certainly the most beautiful, however.”</p><p>“Oh? I’m somewhat surprised by that,” the bull replied. “However, duty requires me to cut short the pleasantries.”</p><p>“Of course, I understand.”</p><p>“So, Lady Bellweater. If you can tell me what happened? We’ve had only the most fragmentary reports here. There was some sort of predator uprising? But that seems impossible. Why didn’t the collars prevent it?” The old bull asked, and now the younger one perked up a bit. </p><p>Dawn looked, briefly, at the younger bull, but he didn’t meet her eyes. ‘Maybe it had been this one’s job to find out this sort of information? But if that was true, why bring him here unless his nose is being rubbed in his failure?’ She thought. </p><p>“I’m not certain what happened. I can only guess. We heard the speech from the white queen, and then we got word that the Confederation Army was moving. We sent out our own troops to meet them. Our soldiers stopped in good defensive positions, and then nothing happened for a day, or two, and then, suddenly, our armored regiment reported heavy losses. Requests for additional information were ignored, and scouts from other formations were fired upon by vehicles that certainly looked like our tanks.</p><p>“I escaped the city only hours before enemy war machines completed the City’s encirclement. They never called for a truce. They never tried to negotiate. They just started surrounding the city and broadcasting their intentions to enter at noon, on the seventh day after the war began,” Dawn said, remembering the panic. </p><p>She had almost taken one of the escaping dirigibles, but was glad she didn’t. The one she would have ridden was forced, by Confederation war birds, to land nearby. The next several airships that tried to depart were simply fired upon, and these either turned back or crashed. She had, in the end, taken a fast car, with minimal passengers and luggage.  </p><p>“Hmmm,” the old bull said. Then he leaned back in his chair and taped his chin. The younger bull had been taking notes. </p><p>“It’s unfortunate that your own military personnel were unwilling to evacuate the city with you. A brave gesture, of course, but not very useful now that we need to know what sort of weapons and tactics the preds may have been using,” the bull said. The younger one, out of sight of his elder, nodded, clearly unhappy. </p><p>“Yes, it’s unfortunate,” the lamb replied. </p><p>‘They wanted to escape with me, but I l left them behind. Not enough room in the car, and someone had to stay behind to keep the servants from getting too many ideas. Perhaps not my bravest action, but at least I brought Doug with me. He’s at least competent,’ she thought. ‘Even if he isn’t the military expert that Woolter was. Or thought he was.’</p><p>“This is what we’ve been able to determine, so far,” the bull said, and then got up and began to pace. “Your troops were defeated because one, or more, of them in key positions, was a traitor. Most of the former officers of the old Zystopian Army have been demoted or imprisoned, but some were not. James Hopper, for example.”</p><p>“Who?” the bellweather asked, when the army commander paused. “Sound like a rabbit?”</p><p>‘Got to keep playing my part. I need to fill the silence as often as necessary, even though I couldn’t care less which uniformed idiot lost the war for us,’ she thought.</p><p>“Yes, a rabbit. Formerly a leftenant in your army. Currently a captain, in the new army. Supposedly they promoted him because he tried to prevent some sort of war crime, but really, they were just throwing him a carrot in exchange for his help.</p><p>“Your army must have been betrayed. There is no other way, considering the equipment we supplied, and the superiority of, most, of your herbivore officers,” the bull said. “You said the defeat was sudden? That’s how it works when you’ve been betrayed.”  </p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“We’ve got a mammal on the inside, feeding us information now in exchange for leniency later,” the big bull replied.</p><p>“Ah, I see,” the lamb said, still playing her part as the ignorant, foreign, female, mammal, willing to be instructed by the all-knowing, local, male, mammal. “That must be it.”</p><p>‘Jerks,’ she thought. ‘I knew we were betrayed. It’s obvious.’</p><p>“But what can we do about it?” She asked, hiding her annoyance, and fluttering her eyelashes. </p><p>“You know how to kill a snake? Cut off the head, and the body dies,” the buffalo said, not without a certain degree of smugness. </p><p>“What does that mean?” She asked, on cue. </p><p>“You’ll see. And you’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>See Chapter 3 of Volume 1 for more information about the sheep running Zystopia on Z Day.</p><p>Here, “Bellweather” is a title, like "Baron" or "Count"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Government House Zystopia Z+3 months</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just another day, or two, for this version of Nick Wilde.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How was your day?” I asked Dora’s image on the screen. We’ve been talking like this for the last month or so. We’re only an hour apart in time. She’s east of me, so it’s an hour later, which still seems odd to me. Shouldn't it be earlier there? </p><p>“Not bad. Yours?” She replied. I can see her entire face now, and hear her voice unfiltered. As expected, she sounds very much like Skylar III. </p><p>“I want to visit you, but I’m not sure how that would work….” I said. </p><p>“Oh, you think it would be easier if I visited you? Is that what this is? A request?”</p><p>“It’s easier for you to get away. You’ve got the body doubles,” I pointed out, reasonably, as if we hadn’t been having this exact same discussion for the last couple of weeks. As if I had not said exactly the same thing last time. She replied as expected. </p><p>“And you’re the sole autocrat where you are. No one to answer to, now that Reynard is out of pocket,” she replied. “That is, if you ever were Reynard’s mammal?”</p><p>“I was. You know I was. Or Skylar knows it, anyway. Doesn’t she tell you everything, or nearly everything?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and gesturing. “And I am no autocrat. An angry mod could still remove me.”</p><p>She nodded. “Actually, autocrats get removed by mobs all the time," she pointed out. </p><p>Then she continued before I could come up with anything witty, "the queen does tell us everything. We are her ladies in waiting. Don’t you also have an unofficial, ‘kitchen” cabinet, which is where you go when you want to talk something through?”</p><p>“You know I do. John, Bigg, Jack, Finn….”</p><p>“Finn?” She asked, looking amused. We've talked about my relationship with my chief bodyguard before. </p><p>“Not for everything. Sometimes I worry that I’ll tell him the wrong thing in frustration and then find a head in a box on my desk the next morning.”</p><p>“Oh, I doubt it would be in a BOX,” she replied, grinning. “Maybe a bucket?”</p><p>“This weekend,” I said, ignoring the two images that came to mind. “This weekend. We’ll have a date. A real date, not that weird midnight visit you did last time. I’ll fly up there, and we’ll do dinner or something?” </p><p>“Right. You've said that before, and then something came up at the last minute. Seeing is believing,” she replied, amused. “I'll try to find something more appropriate to wear this time.”</p><p>We ended the call, and six hours later, I was fast asleep when John woke me up. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” I said, from the couch in my bedroom. It wasn’t a bed, but it was a step in that direction. </p><p>“We got trouble, sir,” he said. </p><p>Trouble, as it turned out, involved an actual angry mob of mostly predators, but also some large prey. Apparently, some idiot, or idiots, thought it would be fun to have drag races on main street after the businesses there closed for the night. The streets would normally be empty, after all, unless, for example everyone knew there would be a drag race tonight between two particular intersections. </p><p>This had happened before, but this time someone was crossing the street, and the fast moving, prey driven, car couldn’t stop fast enough. The victim was a predator, a crowed had gathered, and then someone noticed that Government House wasn’t very far away. And so, a few hours later, here they are. </p><p>I suppose this sort of “what are you going to do about it?” mob beats the alternative, which is when we hear nothing until we get the “tempers have risen too high to be talked down” kind of mob. </p><p>“You’ll probably want to get dressed-“ James was saying.</p><p>“We can’t locate Chief Delgato-“ John was telling me. </p><p>“Major Hopper-“ someone else was saying. </p><p>“Stop,” I replied to all of them. “Just get me a robe. I want to look like I just got roused out of bed, because I did.</p><p>“John, if not Delgato, then who do we have from ZPD?” I asked. </p><p>“Leftenant Hopps is available,” he replied. </p><p>Of course it would be her. She may not be the chief anymore, but she still manages to keep her fingers in all the pies and never seems to sleep. Still doesn’t seem to like me much, but, any port in a storm, and all that. “Fine. Get Hopps. I’ll talk to her after I address the crowd because I doubt they’ll want to wait.”</p><p>“Boss-“ John started to say. </p><p>“And tell Hopper to stay out of this. No tanks. No guns. No green uniformed troops anywhere. These are our people. And we’re not afraid of them, OK? We have no reason to be, right?” I asked. I knew they could smell my anxiety, and I could smell their fear. We’re all new at our jobs, and what’s to stop these mammals from deciding to replace us forcefully tonight? We don’t have enough cops here, and as soon as a mob entered this residence, my governance would be, effectively, over. </p><p>"Finn?" I asked, and he nodded. He knew what to do, and, for that matter, what not to do.    </p><p>So, I walked out on the third story balcony like it was evening, and not an hour before dawn. That balcony was specially designed for this sort of thing. There were pedestals and microphones, a stool for me to perch upon so I could see, and be seen, over the railing, and a very discreet, transparent, force field to stop bullets or thrown stones. </p><p>“What’s this all about?” I asked, and my voice was amplified such that it carried across the entire crowd. Now I could see that there were only a few hundred of them. Maybe a thousand, tops, and mostly nocturnal mammals. </p><p>No one replied immediately, but the mob seemed to calm down. They stopped milling around and they all turned their muzzles up to look at me. </p><p>I could smell them, of course. Not much alcohol. Some of them had brought children. There were no placards and nobody had any loudspeakers. This was just a spontaneous mob, like you read about in history books.</p><p>“What happened? My mammals are telling me there was some sort of drag race?” I asked, and then I pointed at a panther in the front. </p><p>“You! Do you know what happened?” I asked. He nodded, I gestured, and the police let him through the barricade. He said something, but I could not hear him. </p><p>“I’ll come down there,” I said. I tried to ignore the fact that the “barricade” was just a few pieces of wood nailed together.</p><p>The big cat, who was easily four times my size, was waiting when I opened the front door and walked out on the steps. </p><p>“Mind if I stay up here? You’re pretty tall, you know?” I said to him. With me on the steps like this, we were about eye to eye, and close enough to talk. </p><p>He nodded again, and I had to stop myself asking if a cat got his tongue. It was dumb joke that my canine friends and I used to tell each other. The crowd, however, was too large to accept me talking to just one mammal. I needed a representative group so they could all tell their friends what I had said.</p><p>“Anyone else?” I asked the mammals behind him, and they shifted. “Come on, who wants to-“ </p><p>One or two of them looked uncertain, and then they parted and a female raccoon came through. “My baby is dead,” she said.  </p><p>Not sure what else to do, I walked down the steps and hugged her.</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, after sunrise, I was back at the mansion again, having recently returned from the hospital. Delgato had eventually been located, but I was in no mood to talk to him yet. Yelling at him might make me feel better, but he’d just do what he always does. Nod and say he was trying as hard as he could.  </p><p>“What do we know for certain?” I asked no one in particular. Most of my staff was gathered around, both the official and unofficial members. Bigg and Savage would be in later this morning for a council meeting.  </p><p>“Stupid accident, sir,” Judy replied, very matter of fact. Like she wasn’t feeling sorrow at all, but I could see it in her eyes and smell it in her scent. “Couple of dumb kids racing. Another kid, even younger, watching from the sidewalk, but falls into the street. Car hits him.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I replied. I knew most of that by now, but confirmation is not a bad thing, and we would need to make an official statement. Cops found the squirrel driver, hiding at home, and brought him to the hospital, where I had talked to him, and then the police station. I asked him, repeatedly, to apologize to the mother, but he refused. </p><p>“In the past, this would not have happened. Or not the same anyway. Predator child, hit by a car, might not go to a hospital, or not immediately anyway, and certainly not the, formerly, prey hospital you visited. Didn’t matter this time, however,” John said, somewhat unnecessarily. "It's step in the right direction. Going to that hospital."</p><p>“I knew that,” I replied, putting my paws in the pockets of my robe. “I told his mother we’d do something about it. So? What are we doing?”</p><p>Again, it was Judy that replied. “Not much we can do, but I put the word out. Anyone caught racing gets thrown under the jail.” </p><p>I nodded, and tried not to sound bitter. “Not much else we can do, is there? Right. What else are we doing, or not really doing, today?”</p><p>“We need to discuss what to do when the Union invades Confederation territory, as expected, and what to do if the Union Army beats the Confederation Army, as expected. There will be refugees. Also, we’ve had some large mammals, mainly buffalos, complaining about not having enough governmental representation and asking why we're not engaged in peace talks with the Union,” John said. He neither looked, nor smelled, tired, for which I very illogically resented him. </p><p>“Anything else?” I asked. We all know the Union will require all of our heads, on platters, as a first step in the peace talks, and when I say platters, I mean large, decorative plates, or possibly, bowls. It's not a metaphor. </p><p>John looked around, and didn’t see any anyone else willing to add anything, so he gestured to my butler, James. </p><p>"You might want to change-"  James started to say. </p><p>That’s when Jack Savage rolled into the room, and asked a question that I had been avoiding. “What are we going to do about Delgato?”</p><p>Like I would know? Oh, yeah, I am kind of supposed to know.....</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Nick met Dora in Volume 1 when she entered his guest room, at the royal palace in Nova, uninvited. She did not stay long and had worn a disguise. Nick is not currently sure exactly who Dora might be.</p><p>Finn is another character from Volume 1, and what some people might call a "blunt instrument," or possibly something less polite, but never to his face. Friend of Nick. </p><p>Reynard is also from Volume 1, and was more of a father figure, at least for awhile. During this chapter, Reynard, and his army, are marching back to Nova.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In the Palace of the Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is a few days after the last chapter, so, about Z+95 days. Nick has managed to get some free time and has gone to see Dora, in Nova.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, this is going to be a little different. Longer, for one thing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She didn’t meet me at the airport, and I found myself somewhat annoyed. Irrationally. She did send a car, however.  </p><p>She didn’t meet me at the door or in the garage either. </p><p>In fact, it was a repeat of last time, almost exactly. I was met by Dave, and the squirrel escorted me to a meeting with several wolves, one of which was Ronin. </p><p>“Nick! Glad you could make it. The queen regrets that she can’t see you today. I know you didn’t come here to see me, but have a seat, and let’s talk about trade arrangements and alliances. I know you're eager to get to business?” Ronin asked. We were using the same room as last time, but there were less mammals here today. </p><p>“Oh, sure. Like I’m an expert?” I asked. I am, or I like think I am, an expert at negotiating, but I don’t really know much about the trade between our two cities, to be honest. </p><p>“No, but you make the final decisions, don’t you?” He asked, playing to my ego. I’m supposed to just nod and then he’ll have an easier time trying to get me to sell him the keys to my city for a paw full of beans. </p><p>“Sure. After I consult my experts,” I replied. “Most of them know that I don’t know much about their areas of specialty. So anything I say today will be subject to further discussion and ratification at a later date. As I’m sure you know.”</p><p>He grinned at me in a toothy way they had here, but his eyes were not amused. From this mammal, the grin meant, “let’s fight, but politely”, so I was not offended. He had not growled, after all, and we could not read each others’ scents because of the scent blocks we wore. </p><p>He said, “It seems to me….”</p><p> </p><p>An hour later, we had an agreement, at least in principle, that Zystopia and Nova would have a kind of preferred trading partnership, with no tariffs between us, and a kind of formal military alliance that recognized the small amount of trained soldiers currently loyal to Zystopia. My government would be recognized by all nations of the Confederation, and Zystopian soldiers would not be expected to participate in the defense of Nova. Corporations would set up branch offices in the other city. Roads and railroads would be repaired. Liaisons would be arranged, and we would share all non-military technology.</p><p>Technology, especially anything military, had been a sticking point, but Dr. Glover did NOT want to let any more genies out of his bottle than he possibly could, and so I could not tell anyone what sort of things he could, or probably could, do, with the weather control equipment and technology we had. For example, the technology behind that force field on the balcony of my mansion could not be shared. Nova already had working examples of all pre-liberation military hard ware, so I simply implied that no improvements had been made, and it was true, after a fashion. </p><p>After the haggling, I went to my room, and it was the same room as before. I changed clothes and showered to get rid of the scent block, rested, and then I knelt in the same spot I had slept before. The door opened at the expected time, she walked in, and the door closed behind her. </p><p>“Hello,” I said, starting to get up. “Come here often?”</p><p>She was not in disguise this time, but wore the kind of dress that I had, eventually, realized that many of the vixens wear here. With a hood, the way they seem to like. She used both paws to put it back after closing the door. </p><p>“Eh? Going to propose to me? A bit early in the evening for that, wouldn’t you say?” She asked, and I paused.</p><p>I looked down, and then got up the rest of the way. “I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. I kind of thought I would see you sooner…”</p><p>“Part of that was duty,” she replied. “I could not get away. But also, the other mammals here at the palace… they don’t see much of the outside world. A king, in all but name, like yourself, can’t just sneak in and out of windows like a teenager, and you can’t avoid being involved in high level discussions. We're not simple trades mammals that are told where to go and what to say or do.” </p><p>“Nothing wrong with having a trade. Being able to do, or make, something useful,” I replied. She nodded, so I asked her what I wanted to know just in case she disappeared again. “Are you the queen?”</p><p>“Which one?” She replied, amused. She nodded toward the sitting area of the room, I bowed very slightly, and then we seated ourselves on separate couches. </p><p>“The queen of the Nile,” I replied. </p><p>“No, I am not the queen of denial. I am also, not the queen of Nova,” she said. “Does that answer your question or questions?”</p><p>She said it with no hesitation and apparently no “tells” that she was lying. On the other paw, she almost certainly must have expected this question and rehearsed her answer. The speech pattern, and word choice, sounded rehearsed.   </p><p>“So, tell me more about yourself,” I suggested. </p><p>“Beyond what we’ve already discussed on Muzzletime? You already know I never wanted this job, but I was born to do it. My family does it. My sister did it, and I do it,” she replied. “Unlike you, I had more than a few hours warning, and I had some training that didn’t involve being tortured.”</p><p>“Not sure I'd call that training, but my experiences did help many Zystopians accept me. </p><p>"Your sister did it?” I asked. She knew that I knew the current queen of Nova, Skylar III, became queen only because her sister, Skylar II, was removed from power, about five years ago, because she committed a crime. That is, she denounced the treaty with Zystopia, and attempted to go to war without provocation and without the approval of the Novan Senate. Skylar III did go to war, just over three months ago, but she had approval and provocation.  </p><p>“Oh? Still digging? Yes, various members of my family did it,” she said. Now she was sitting a little differently, more formal, and her scent was less sweet and more harsh. “Some have given their lives in this job. We can’t always determine what’s going to happen with all the armed guards around here with orders to shoot to kill any assassin, and my friends and I looking as much like our monarch as possible. Our instructions are to not reveal which of us might, or might not, be queen.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said, and put my muzzle up and back to expose my throat. </p><p>“Huh,” she said. Amused again. “Didn’t expect to see that. I forgive you, of course.” </p><p>“So, what would you like to do?” I asked, bringing my muzzle back level. “I don’t suppose we can go for a romantic walk in the moonlight along a beach?”</p><p>“No, I can’t really do that. Not alone certainly! There would be guards, and mammals would recognize me, or they would think they did, and then I would get the sort of 20 questions that entails. It’s not that I mind people thinking I’m Skylar, but, when I am Skylar, I’m working, you know?</p><p>“I guess I just kind of want some time off,” she said. </p><p>“OK. Let’s… watch TV, like normal mammals. What do the kids call it? ‘Pawflix and chill’?”</p><p>“Sure. As long as ‘chill’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’ tonight, then yes,” she said.  </p><p>“Well, there went my plans! I was going to try to-“ I started to say. </p><p>She interrupted me by getting up, and closing the distance between us very quickly, and then she sat down next to me and put one of her paws on my shoulder. And then she kissed me. Or rather, not so much a kiss, more of a lick, because we are foxes, but I found that my view of the world shifted. It was like I was back in high school again, day dreaming about which vixen I wanted. And here she was.  </p><p>Then she leaned back a bit and made a show of sniffing. “No, no, don’t get any ideas. You’re going to wait. I am not easy, but I am worth it.”</p><p>“Ah, Ok” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “What would you like to see?”</p><p>“You know? I don’t care?” She asked. “Just, nothing depressing, OK?”</p><p>I found myself watching some sort of soap opera about a prince in love with a police lieutenant in some faraway place called Corea. The mammals were all in some sort of strange costumes, such that they had very little fur, and their faces were flat and hairless. It was, in short, something I would never watch, willingly, if I was alone. </p><p>But, I wasn’t alone. Dora was here. She put her head on my shoulder, and I felt, for that evening, like I was a member of the royalty, and maybe worthy of a queen.   </p><p> </p><p>We fell asleep on the couch that way, after watching two or three episodes. </p><p>I woke up and became aware that we weren't alone around 2 AM. There was another scent. A wolf, and the door was open, just a little. I looked at him, and he noticed my eyes were open. He said nothing, but only nodded, went back out the door, and closed it behind himself. I'm fairly sure I don't want to know what would have happened if that wolf thought I wasn't being a gentle mammal.</p><p>I considered, briefly, moving somewhere more comfortable, probably the bed, and then I realized I would have to wake Dora, so I abandoned that thought and fell back asleep.</p><p>I found myself awakened, a second time, around sunrise, by a knock at the door. Dora didn’t move, and whoever it was knocked again. Dora then replied, without moving her head from its current location on my belly. “Come in.”</p><p>We were fully dressed, somewhat to my disappointment, but I had the impression that she would have let them in anyway. These mammals were clearly her friends, mostly females, except for two males, and most of them were foxes that looked, and dressed, the same. Two were wolves and clearly some sort of personal guards based on the weapons they had. I might have already seen one of them a few hours ago, but there were too many new scents, and the wolves stayed by the door, so I wasn't sure.</p><p>They all entered the room, spread out, and then one of the wolves closed the door. The wolves stayed back a bit, closer to the exit, while the foxes moved closer to us in a kind of semi-circle. If one of the foxes was Skylar III, then I would not have known, but that would have been very unlikely. I doubt the queen would have knocked, for one thing. </p><p>“Mammals?” Dora said, rising to a sitting position now, and putting a paw on my chest to stop me from getting to my feet. “This is Nick.”</p><p>The wolves nodded, but the foxes just kind of looked at each other, clearly deciding who would be first. </p><p>“Nick. I’m Kora,” one of them said. “How are you?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” I replied, wondering what was going on, as one after the other, they introduced themselves. </p><p>When they were done, I looked at Dora. </p><p>She sighed and started to get up, and, as one, the foxes all curtsied, very fast, and clearly, a move they had practiced, and done, before. The wolves didn’t move.</p><p>Dora paused, and then turned to me, “that. Is a joke. They think they’re funny, so just ignore it, or they'll do something else even sillier.”</p><p>“OK,” I replied. “Ah, what happens now?”</p><p>“Now… I’m afraid you have to get on a plane and go back to Zystopia. My friends are here to remind me that I have to go back to work.”</p><p>“You asked us-“ one of them started to say. </p><p>“Yes, I did,” she said, and then made a kind of hand gesture. “Wait for me outside.”</p><p>They left in the same way they had entered. There was no uncertainty, and no conversation. They all knew who would be first and last through the door.  </p><p>Dora put her paws back on my shoulders and looked at me, tilting her muzzle this way and that. “Well? What are you going to do now?” She asked. </p><p>“There are so many things I want to do. So many,” I replied. I knew she could tell that from my scent, just as I could tell from hers. “But, I’ll settle for this.”</p><p>I put my muzzle forward and we touched our noses together. </p><p>She pulled back, looked into my eyes, nodded, turned around, got up, and left, leaving me alone in the room until Dave put his head back in a few minutes later. </p><p>“Can you be ready in ten minutes? We’ve arranged transport back to Zystopia,” he said. </p><p>“Of course,” I replied. I also have to get back to work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Nick in his Office</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We have several short scenes with Nick doing his "I'm the mayor" thing. He talks to three mammals (a fox and two rabbits) and remembers a conversation with his father (Francis Wilde) that I really should have included somewhere around Chapter 3 or 4, but I forgot.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A somewhat longer chapter this time as I try to address the points of view of several characters and their feelings about what happened to Delrio at the end of volume 1.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James waited until I got all the way back into the mansion, and sat down, and then he came into my office. He waited, smelling very much like infinite patience, and so I nodded. </p><p>“Welcome back sir. You’ve got several mammals wishing to see you, including Finn, Ms. Hopps, and John. Which would you like to see first?”</p><p>“Let’s go with Finn, and then Hopps.”</p><p>“Yes sir”</p><p> </p><p>Ten minutes later, Finn came in and sat down, without asking permission. I let him do this because he’s my oldest friend, and I feel like I need reminders that I’m only mortal and just as prone to error as anyone else. Sometimes the way crowds react to me, or Major Hopper addresses me, gives me too much of a feeling of greatness. I need my friends to keep me grounded.</p><p>“He did it,” Finn said, instead of anything like hello, how was your trip? I guess I should be used to it by now. </p><p>“You’re sure?” I asked. He looked at me like I was slightly crazy, so I elaborated. “Motive, means, and opportunity. What about those?”</p><p>“Oh? Fine. Motive you know. Hated the guy. Means? We found out that Francis is friends with a former Confed Army optio named Darwin, and Darwin has a warsuit. Opportunity? You saw that. It was right out front of his building, and then the assassin joined a column of soldiers,” Finn replied. As usual, he didn’t bother to punctuate his points or count on his figures. He was right, and he knew it.  </p><p>And then Francis gave us a bird shit story about multiple assassins and wouldn’t let PDZ do its own, independent, investigation. </p><p>“Any proof? Do you know where this Darwin is? And who is ‘we’?” I asked. </p><p>“Can’t tell you that,” Finn replied. “Don’t know. As for we? Guy told me is not a very trustworthy mammal, except with me. Knows I’d kill him if he lied, so, he won’t lie. Don’t got no pictures, though. </p><p>“Could you-“ I started to ask. </p><p>“If I gave him a low light camera to use, he’s sell it, and then claim it was lost, and I’d have to break his arm,” Finn interrupted. “So I’d rather not.”</p><p>“OK. Thanks,” I said. “ Anything else I need to know? How’s Judy?”</p><p>“She’s OK. Mad at me currently, not sure why. Females!” He said, and laughed. </p><p> </p><p>An hour later, I asked James to find Major Hopper and have him report to my office. While I waited, I thought about part of a muzzle time conversation with my father, not long after the Confederation Army moved out. </p><p>“Have you lost your damned mind?” I asked. I thought I was being very calm, at the time, but he moved back from me slightly, before he realized he was showing weakness.  </p><p>He had called to discuss the next Council meeting, and I was taking this opportunity to catch him up on my feelings about recent affairs. He wasn’t in the mood for my opinion, however. </p><p>“No, I haven’t, and I would appreciate it if you would moderate your tone when speaking to me.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this better?” I asked, trying to sound sweeter. He didn’t answer, so I continued, “tell you what. You don’t murder people in broad daylight, down the street from here, and I won’t yell at you. Deal?”</p><p>“I didn’t 'murder' anyone,” he replied, and did that air quotes thing he does.</p><p>“Right, I know, I know. You didn't actually 'do' it, but you gave the order,” I replied, and used air quotes as well, as I watched his ears twitch backward. He was trying very hard not to get angry, or more likely, trying hard not to look like he was getting angry. After all, an innocent mammal would assume I was just fishing and so would not take this so personally. </p><p>“What do you call it? ‘Removal?’ Some other code word, I guess,” I continued. “So let me rephrase. Whatever it was that you did? Don’t do it again.”</p><p>“Or what?” He replied. Now he cocked his head at me, apparently amused. </p><p>“Or what? There is no or what. I won’t do anything, but it’s not me about whom you should worry,” I informed him. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that James wakes me up at 2 AM because there are tanks and armored personnel carriers surrounding, and shooting into, your building. Do you know what I’m going to do?”</p><p>“I expect you’ll tell me.”</p><p>“Nothing. That’s what I’m going to do,” I said. “Major Hopper and Fang Delrio were close friends. You must know that. How long will he, or one of his mammals, wait before doing something about the mammals that killed their friend?” </p><p>“If you think I’m afraid of that Sodomite-“ he started to say. </p><p>I interrupted him. “Don’t finish that thought. In fact, I believe I have other matters that require my attention far more than this pointless attempt to get you to see reason. </p><p>“Good day, father,” I said, and cut the connection before he could say anything else. </p><p> </p><p>That was then. Now, I have another visitor, but it’s not Major Hopper. </p><p>“Mr. Mayor?” Leftenant Hopps asked from the doorway, bringing me back to the present. “Nick?”</p><p>“Ah?” I replied, surprised that she used my first name, and surprised that she was here instead of the rabbit I was expecting. “Come in, and have a seat. My next appointment, Hopper, isn’t here yet, and I was just thinking about something my father told me several weeks ago.”</p><p>“Yes, Mr. Mayor, of course,” she replied, all business now. There was no trace of confusion in her scent now, only a kind of determination to do something she would rather not.</p><p>“Mr. Mayor, I need to inform you that I feel it necessary to arrest Francis Wilde, your father, for the murder of Police Chief Sweeney.”</p><p>“Sweeny?” I asked, somewhat surprised. “Everyone knows Francis did it, but he got a pardon for that one. Sweeny was one of the mammals that, had he been caught by the Confed Army, wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes. Had it made it to trial, the outcome would have been a foregone conclusion.</p><p>“And what about Fang Delrio? Can’t you charge him with that?”</p><p>“I could. But I don't believe I can make it stick, or not without Judge Bean, anyway," she replied, referring to the kind of trial she had experienced before becoming police chief. "There is too much reasonable doubt. We don’t have the shooter so we can’t prove Francis gave the order."</p><p>“So you want to get him for Sweeny instead? OK. Tell me how that’s going to work,” I invited.</p><p> </p><p>“You wished to see me sir?” Major Hopper asked, in my office a few minutes after Leftenant Hopps departed. Hopper wasn’t as neat as last time. </p><p>“When I asked to see you, I didn’t mean to drop everything and rush over here,” I replied. “You might have showered, for example.”</p><p>“Sorry sir,” he replied. “I was working on a field problem. There are some issues related to doctrine when engaging an enemy that uses mass charge tactics. I was in the maneuvering area, and on one of the tanks.”  He was not actually sorry, and he probably thought I should have told him if I wanted him to clean up first. </p><p>“Mass charges? Like the union uses?” I asked.</p><p>“Yes sir. It’s important to be able to shoot, move, and repeat. Keep hitting them. Wear them down. Coordination can be tricky, and we can’t let them get too close.”</p><p>“I see,” I replied. I didn’t, really, but I didn’t want to get distracted. </p><p>“Have a seat,” I suggested, and he sat.</p><p>“You are, of course, familiar with what happened to Fang Delrio?” I asked, by means of getting his emotional temperature. See how angry he is.</p><p>“I am, sir,” he replied. His body language remained the same ‘closed’ posture, of many military mammals, but his scent shifted toward anger, and loss.</p><p>“If I tell you who did it, you won’t be grabbing a rifle and talking care of it yourself?”</p><p>“No sir,” now he smelled calmer. “May I speak candidly sir?”</p><p>That’s another odd thing about soldiers. They usually ask before saying something too honest. I appreciated the warning.</p><p>“Go ahead”</p><p>“Sir, I could have done it a dozen times before now. My top mammals are loyal to me, and they were loyal to Delrio. Many of them,” and he paused, probably wondering how to go on.</p><p>“That is, hitting an armored limo with a five-inch direct fire weapon, or smart missile for that matter, is not hard. It just takes practice, leading a target that size, so one can put the projectile where he’ll be when it arrives,” he said, abandoning all pretense that we were talking about something other than an assassination.</p><p>So, they’ve thought about it. Someone suggested it, and they talked about it. How hard would it be to have another ‘accident,’ but with an MBT70 this time, not a war suit, and Francis in the limo this time? </p><p>“I see,” I said. “OK. Leftenant Hopps will arrest Francis Wilde in the near future. Probably in transit between this building and his building. I’ll need you to provide security for her officers. No shooting unless you must. We don’t need civilians getting hurt.”</p><p>“Yes sir. I’ll have an antitank missile team standing by to kill his limo if I must, but we’ll use armored personnel carriers for the actual backup of Hopps interception. They use smaller weapons, which are less likely to do heavy collateral damage, and I can have them use lower velocity, less lethal, ammunition," he replied. His scent was contemplative now, and I took that as a good sign that he trusted me enough to do that sort of thing. </p><p>"I saw Lt. Hopps leaving while I was coming in. May I assume I am free to coordinate with her?” He asked. I'm sure he knew the answer, but he was being careful to check all the details. </p><p>“You are," I said. "But tell no one else, except those that absolutely must know. I don't wish to warn Francis.</p><p>"On that subject. How much warning would you need?” I asked because I wanted to be sure. </p><p>“Sir, it could be done today, if there was a meeting scheduled an hour from now. I’ve conducted training exercises with the officers involved. The mammals, of course, will do what those officers tell them to do.”</p><p>"Very well. You may assume it'll be the next council meeting, on Monday morning. I'll confirm again the day of, of course, or you will check with me, or with John, that morning at 0500, unless I contact you Sunday night," I said. "In any case, I will expect you and Hopps to pick him up unless Francis doesn't attend the meeting. In that case, you and Hopps will determine the best course of action." </p><p>He nodded, and now his scent was entirely satisfaction. "Thank you, sir. </p><p>"Was that all?" He asked. "I need to get back to the exercises." I nodded, he saluted, and then turned around and left. </p><p>I’m glad he’s on our side. After all, I ride in the same type of armored limo.</p><p>"You wanted to see me, boss?" John asked a few minutes later. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, this chapter was a little later than my previous "once a week" schedule, but I got hung up on how to do it, and ended up doing nothing until now. Sometimes I just have to stop cutting bait and get to fishing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Arrest of Francis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The problem with being the head of the secret police is that you have be willing, and able, to kill people if you want to be feared. However, you also have to be good at picking who not to kill. You never know when a simple matter will turn into something else entirely, especially if you brag to the wrong person.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I went to the meeting room on the first floor of the house and sat down, half an hour early. All the necessary calls had been made, and assurances given, but now I was having second thoughts. </p><p>This could easily all go wrong. He’s got dozens of mammals loyal to him, not to Zystopia, and he’s got to know that I’m going to have to take action against his interests. If I don’t do something, then someone else will, because a leader like me, with no institutional legitimacy, must lead or be replaced. So far, Francis has been willing to try and influence events behind the scenes, and has not been willing to make a grab for more direct power.</p><p>Maybe that really is what’s going on? Francis is working on picking someone else, but he doesn’t yet have all the pieces in place? Gathering information related to a possible coup is what his secret police are for, after all. We’d like him to focus on preventing a coup, but he may be thinking about his own advantages if someone else rules the city. </p><p>There is nothing I can do about that now, so I wait. </p><p>John and Edward arrived and sat down, and then the other council members called in by video phone one by one. No unnecessary words were spoken. We had already discussed this matter, and the decision had been made that most of the council members’ physical presences, this morning in this place, would be needlessly reckless. Especially for Bigg. </p><p>Finally, Colonel Francis Wilde, my father, arrived. He paused in the doorway, briefly, seemed to shrug, and then sat in his usual place at the table. That put him to my left, with only Mr. Bigg’s image between us. </p><p>“Colonel Wilde. Good morning,” I said, as usual. He was alone, as required for all council members. No one is allowed to have their guards in here.</p><p>“Mr. Mayor,” he replied. He was wearing scent block again this morning, in violation of one of the unwritten rules of this council.</p><p>“So, everyone else got the memo about phoning in today?” He asked me, and then looked at John and Edward. “No offense. Everyone else, I suppose.”</p><p>John shrugged and looked away. Edward, less interested in subtlety, glared and said nothing. </p><p>Francis cocked his head slightly, and looked at me. “OK. What’s going on?”</p><p>“Francis. Colonel Wilde,” I started, and then I wasn’t sure how to continue. I had rehearsed what I would have said, but now the moment was more difficult that expected. </p><p>“Your recent actions, since the liberation, are troubling to. To this council,” I said, watching Francis and waiting for him to interrupt. He looked, at first, confused, and then angry, and then he relaxed, apparently thinking this would be some sort of minor annoyance. “We-”</p><p>“Troubling to you, you mean?” He asked, interrupting me. “Don’t try to hide behind others. Behind a threadbare cloak of shared responsibility. Come on, boy, just say it.”</p><p>“Fine,” I relied, and I found myself far more angry than I expected. “Your actions are unacceptable. You murdered Delrio, and others, and I, we, won’t tolerate that behavior.”  </p><p>“Delrio?” He asked, apparently surprised. “No, I didn’t kill him. We’ve talked about that already.” Then he paused,  again, and sniffed. </p><p>“You smell… determined, I guess would be the word," he observed. "And what others?” He was curious now. </p><p>“Sweeney,” I said, but I didn’t continue. I was supposed to give him a long list of names, but now I could not remember who they were. “And others.” </p><p>Now he looked genuinely surprised. “The pig? Really? This is your play? You’re going to try and pin that on me? Fine. I admit it. I killed him.</p><p>“And you pardoned me for it,” he continued after looking at several of the images of other council members around the table, apparently looking for support. I hadn’t taken my eyes off of my father. </p><p>“You admit it. Here, in front of all of us, that you killed the former chief of police for the ZPD, Sam Sweeney,” I asked, knowing what Francis would say. </p><p>“Of course I did it, and I would do it again,” he replied. “I’ve been pardoned for that. As you, all of you, know.”</p><p>He seemed to realize some sort of die had been cast, some threshold crossed, but he didn’t quite see how it harmed him. Not yet. </p><p>“We know that Sweeney was tortured to death,” I said. </p><p>“Tortured? So what? If so, he had it coming,” the colonel replied. He was regaining his footing, and now trying to distance himself from whatever point I was trying to make about Sweeney’s death. </p><p>“The terms of your, and the other, pardons were clear. A clean death, each and every one. That means no torture. No personal vendettas. No revenge, only justice. </p><p>“You signed it, and you said you gave those mammals a clean death,” I reminded him. “I suspect you did, with most of them. All of the ones before Z day, anyway. No time to have fun with them, right? To listen to them beg and watch them squirm. Just shoot them in the back of the head, and dump the body. For those, you were pardoned. </p><p>“Not for the ones you tortured. And you have not been, and will not be, pardoned for the assassination of Fang Delrio,” I concluded. </p><p>“Ah,” he said when I was finished. “So you can’t prove it was me that did for Delrio, eh? You think you might get someone to feel bad about Sweeny’s death instead? Good luck with that! </p><p>“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go back to my office until you calm down,” he said, and got up, a little too quickly.</p><p>He looked around at the rest of the council, not in farewell, but in consideration. I didn’t move, but I did spare a glance for the other council members images. Most of them seemed almost bored, as if the game was over, but one of the teams was refusing to admit it.</p><p>As for Francis? He’s got to know that we can’t let him return to his residence. He has too many followers. Things could get ugly if we let him go and he decides to cause trouble.</p><p>But, he won’t. Hopper and Hopps are seeing to that. </p><p>“Next time, boy? Spend more time on preparations before you make your move. That way, you won’t look stupid again. Or, not as much,” Francis said. Then he grinned at me, and walked out of the room. </p><p>John got up as if to follow, but I signaled for him to wait. </p><p>“No,” I said. “Hopper will report when it’s done.  </p><p>“Right,” I continued. Then I exhaled, and looking around again. </p><p>“What say we try to get some other work done this morning? Who would like to be first?” I asked.   </p><p>“What about replacing Delgato?" Savage, or his image anyway, inquired. "We asked you last week, before that date, I mean, that fact finding mission, of yours in Nova, and you said you’d think about it. So I assume you thought about it? What are we going to do about the current chief of police? We can't have an incompetent in that role, especially now that we don't, we probably don't, have any secret police at the moment.”</p><p>“Yes, we need to replace him, but I was thinking I should not chose that replacement because my last two choices didn’t work out very well,” I replied, ignoring the thinly veiled attempt to get me to talk about my date. </p><p>“That seems to be reasonable, Nickolas, and I am sure the current PDZ will be able to assume any duties that Francis will no longer be addressing. I'd like to know if you, and the other members of this council, would you be willing to consider one of my mammals?” Bigg’s image asked. </p><p>An interesting question. How would the PDZ react to having a police chief chosen by the, former, head of the mob?</p><p>“I would, of course, be willing to consider it, but I’m not sure-“</p><p>James interrupted us. “Major Hopper would like to address the council.”</p><p>“By all means,” I replied. </p><p>The lagomorph soldier was dressed in his work clothes, not the more normal formal outfit with the medals and doo dads that I had seen previously. If this was his ‘I may have to shoot someone’ day to day wear, at least he didn’t appear to have shot anyone today, and we had heard no gunfire. His scent told me, and I presume the way his eyes had lit up told everyone else, just how satisfied he was with his duties today, however. </p><p>“Mammals. Colonel Francis Wilde was taken into custody by Leftenant Hopps without incident. I have video of the event, but I thought you’d like verbal confirmation as soon as possible.”</p><p>“Very well,” I said, and again looked at the other council members. One by one, they nodded, so I added, “proceed with Phase 2”.</p><p>Hopper nodded and went back to his mammals to begin the process of evacuating Francis’ former head quarters and disarming his, former, mammals. The building was, if all was going according to plan, currently surrounded by armored vehicles. </p><p>“Where were we?” I asked. </p><p>“You were saying that you wouldn’t trust Bigg’s choice for police chief,” Jack Savage’s image said, somewhat mischievously. </p><p>I looked at Bigg, but he only shook his head and waved a paw, clearly amused, so I knew he wasn’t taking the comment the wrong way. </p><p>“No, that’s not what I said. Mr. Bigg, please give us your recommendation,” I said. "I would be happy to consider them."</p><p>“Of course,” the shrew replied. “And I would be more than happy to send a list of candidates to my fellow council members as well. </p><p>“But now, I think we would all like to hear about your visit to Nova. We have your written comments about the various trade and military issues, to which you agreed, in principle. However, we’d also like to know more about who you met and what sort of feeling or impressions you got from them?” Bigg continued. "I believe you wanted to see a certain vixen, and I am sure that many of us here would like to hear how successful that endeavor may have been."</p><p>“I bet he slept on the floor, as usual,” Jack’s image said, almost too quietly to hear. I pretended not to hear him.  </p><p>“Ah. Yes, the treaties, right,” I replied, and looked around at the very expectant faces, and smelled the equally interested scents from Edward and John. “Well, you see….”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Francis recorded the death of Sweeney and sent a DVD to Bogo in Volume 1. See chapter 29.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Squirrel and the Fox</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An update on the resident technical genius, inherited from the previous regime. Also, Francis' actual, final, fate. Last chapter was a bit premature on my part.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Another day. That’s my first thought when I wake up on my couch this morning, and I feel slightly eager, but then I remembered what I have to do today. I’ve got two meetings, neither pleasant, in addition to whatever else is going on. I need to see my father, and I need to see Dr. Glover. I think I’ll see the squirrel first just in case things with Francis go as badly as I expect, and I've been putting off seeing the squirrel, so I should get it out of the way.</p><p> </p><p>At Glover’s building, what used to be a community college campus, there are very few visible guards. Like nearly everywhere else, there is a gate guard, but they’ve also got several squads of soldiers just in case someone from the Union finds out what’s really going on and decides to make trouble. Unauthorized visitors get one warning. The guard just waves me through when he sees the car. </p><p>Glover doesn’t meet me outside this time, and my security team and I have to spend some time in the waiting area. I am, eventually, met by a greeter and escorted to Glover’s office, elsewhere in the building. </p><p>“Mr. Mayor, how are you?” The squirrel says, as he stands up behind his desk in his medium mammal sized office. It’s a little small for me, but not bad. I brought a ferret guard, named Frank, today, and he has taken up a position in the corner of the office, out of the way. </p><p>“Dr. Glover. Do you understand why I’m here?” My last visit, several months ago, involved promises of cooperation with my military mammals, but those promises have not borne as much fruit as I expected. </p><p>There was no offer of a paw to shake, and I’m getting a definite sense that he feels this meeting is a waste of his valuable time. I’m also feeling somewhat annoyed that he doesn’t seem to be very aware of whom is working for whom, here.</p><p>He nods, so I continue. “There have been various snags and bottle necks in production of the new equipment. Many of your ideas come to us unfinished, and few have adequate technical explanation, or the prototypes are barely functional. The mammals that are working to put them into production-“</p><p>“Yes,” he replies, interrupting me, and waving a paw. “But that’s not really my problem, is it? You asked me to work with your mammals to develop various defensive equipment. I have been doing that.”</p><p>“You also said you could build what you referred to as a death ray,” I reminded him. </p><p>“And you implied that you didn’t want one,” he countered, apparently amused now. </p><p>“I didn’t want a death ray, no, but you said you could do it," I replied. "I'm not seeing the sort of expertise I would have expected out of someone with your resume'.”  </p><p>He didn’t react, and I continued, “There are some very bad mammals to our west that would very much like to put mammals like me back under their control. I have been counting on you, and this expensive facility, to help us prepare for that threat.”</p><p>“Yes,” he replied, and grinned. “Mammals like you.”</p><p>“And mammals like some of your friends out there on the factory floor,” I replied, working to keep my ears from going back. I was getting a definite sense of boredom from his scent.  </p><p>“Yes,” he said. “You’re right. I should do it for them, at least.”</p><p>Them. “Yes, I believe you should. And you should do it for all mammals living here in Zystopia,” I said. “You also live here, after all. My military mammals need better prototypes and better technical explanations how these things work. If we can’t reproduce your extremely useful machines, then they aren’t as useful.” And you aren't as useful either. </p><p>“I can see that. I gave you that shield for your balcony, didn’t I?” He said, somewhat petulantly. He was leaning further back in his chair now, and there was some fear in his scent. I wondered why, until I looked back and noticed that Frank was no longer trying not to be noticed. He had moved closer and put one of his paws inside his jacket.  </p><p>“Yes, and I’m grateful. I would like to be able to produce more shields, possibly larger ones, for use when the Union Army comes to call,” I replied, and pretended not to notice what the ferret was doing. </p><p>“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied. “Just remember. Nobody else, outside this city, sees any of these breakthroughs. That especially includes those fanatics from Nova. I will have quite enough blood on my hands for you, if you have to use any of these things.”</p><p>They’re not fanatics, but I can’t tell him that. “Yes, we’ve been over that, and I have not shared any of your secrets with them.”</p><p>“If you do, there won’t be any more secrets,” he said. Now, he smelled much more determined, and I decided, again, not to push the matter. </p><p>"Thank you, Doctor," I said, and left the office. On the way out, I made a mental note to look into just how important, and therefore, irreplaceable, Dr. Glover is. </p><p> "Good job in there," I said to the ferret. He smiled, glad to be recognized. "But don't overdo things like that, OK?"</p><p> </p><p>An hour later, and I was in a different part of the City. </p><p>“I’ve come to give you news, father,” I said. I was alone this time because I wasn't sure I wanted to bring Frank to this meeting. “It’s sort of a good news, bad news, kind of thing. Which would you like first?”</p><p>We were in the Zystopia prison, VIP section, which Francis Wilde shared with a dozen or so other mammals. Some of these were survivors of the reign of terror that resulted from the Judge Bean trials, and they had no love for my father, or any of the rest of us, for that matter. The prisoners were kept separated, of course. </p><p>“Well, you’re here, so you must have realized you made a mistake and would like to beg for forgiveness?” He asked. He wore the standard prison coveralls, with a number, not a name. His scent was amused, and his posture, confident. It was clear to me that he was still in denial. </p><p>“I suppose that’s one way to put it. The charges were a mistake, but I felt I had to put a stop to your activities,” I said, as he sneered. “The good news is that you’re being released because I don’t feel that I can give you a fair trial.”</p><p>“Well, it’s about time you folded,” he replied. He was standing closer to the bars than before, and he had his arms crossed. </p><p>The council had, after further discussion, decided that a jury of his peers would realize what was really going on, and, most likely, exonerate Francis. They would accept that Sweeney had to die, and, probably, decide that torturing him wasn’t a big deal, but they wouldn’t be sure who killed Delrio. There was only one card left for me to play.   </p><p>I thought about telling Francis the rest. However, as I looked into his eyes, and smelled his scent, I thought there was no further point discussing the matter. Nothing would change. “Goodbye, father,” I said, and walked away. </p><p>“You’re not my son,” he shouted, to my back. I kept walking.  </p><p> </p><p>“OK, I think that’s everything,” the prison official said. He had made careful notes of each of the, former, prisoner's items as it was returned, and seemed to be taking as long as possible. He gestured. "You may exit through there."</p><p>The newly released fox grunted, barely acknowledging the unimportant, prison guard, mammals around him as he left the prison. Soon, the fox would be back with his own mammals, back in his own building. He saw two official looking, but unfamiliar cars waiting, and smelled the scents of several predators nearby. </p><p>“Francis Wilde?” A voice said, from his right.  </p><p>The fox turned and saw two armed mammals in Confederation grey uniforms. He didn’t recognize them. </p><p>“Who are you?” He said. "What do you want with me?"</p><p>“We’re here to give you a ride. Please come with us,” the larger of the two otters said, and gestured. “This way please.”</p><p>The fox found himself between the two other mammals as they guided him toward one of the waiting cars. The otter in front of him opened the back door of the first car and gestured again, so Francis Wilde, formerly a colonel in the Army of Nova, got in, and the door was closed behind him. There was no door latch on the inside.</p><p>“Francis Wilde,” the passenger in the front seat said. “Do you remember me?”</p><p>The fox found himself unable to speak as he looked through the armored mesh that separated the front and back sections of the car. The mammal in the front seat was a weasel named Fang Sinestro, the foremost ranking mammal in the Army of Mustella, and, Francis knew, the mammal that assigned Fang Delrio to watch Colonel Wilde. </p><p>“Mr. Wilde. We have much to discuss,” the weasel said. “Or rather, I have much to say, and then, I need to follow my orders from the field marshal. You see, unlike you, I obey orders, and, unlike you, my future does not involve a bullet in the back of my head.”</p><p> </p><p>I came back to government house after seeing my father, but I didn’t go to my office. I went to my rooms and closed the door. After a few minutes, there was a knock and then James came in with a sandwich. </p><p>“Thought you might be hungry, sir,” he said. “I have a message from Bigg. He said there were some things the council wished to discuss, but they could wait until tomorrow.” </p><p>“Thanks,” I replied, dully. Then I continued. </p><p>“If you see Finn, could you…”</p><p>“I’ll send him up directly, sir,” he said, and then walked back out. </p><p>Finn arrived a few minutes later. “So? What’s up, dog? Heard you went to see your old man?”</p><p>“Yeah. I was going to tell him that I signed his death warrant, earlier than expected, but then, I didn’t.”</p><p>“Why not?” Finn asked. He really wasn’t very curios. His is a simple world view. Francis is a bad mammal, so he needs to die. </p><p>“He just seemed so smug. I didn’t see the point,” I replied. </p><p>“Eh. Doesn't matter anyway, but weren’t you going to give him a phoney baloney trial for that Sweeny thing?” He asked, and then, noticing my untouched sandwich, helped himself. </p><p>"Yeah. About that....."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It was pointed out that Francis can't be tried for Sweeney, even though I was thinking, at the time, that it was an elegant solution. Wishful thinking on my part, but now I think this solution is actually better.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. These Foxes in Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick Wilde finally manages to convince his vixen to come and see him, but things can't seem to go quite the way he plans. Also, he finds out that he and Dora have different ways of seeing the world around them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm using all caps for text messages. They're not shouting; I'm just letting you know it's a text message.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I dialed Dora’s number, engaged the various encryption programs that came with being the mayor, and then hit send. The computer thought about it, and then Dora’s image appeared. </p><p>She looked very much as she always does. Snow white, beautiful, and lively, with curious eyes. Her muzzle will often tilt this way or that, as she thinks about something or other. I stare for a moment, thinking, and just sort of enjoying this version of reality in which this version of me is in love with this version of her. </p><p>Of course, she has no idea what sort of silly thoughts are running through my mind. She asks, “what? Do I have some food in my teeth? Or maybe you wanted me to groom myself better?”</p><p>“You’re already perfect. Just as you are. I was just thinking how lucky I was,” I replied, honestly. Now that I look, some of her fur seems to be out of place, but I really don't care. I know I can't say that, and so I don't.  </p><p>Her head tilted, and she replied, “well, aren’t we the thoughtful one today, and you called earlier than usual. What happened?”</p><p>And so I told her what my father had done and what I had had to do. She understood, as I knew she would, and I know perfectly well that a member of the palace cleaning staff would be very unlikely to understand the sort of decisions that a ruler has to make. </p><p>On the other paw, a ruler sometimes has to take unpleasant measures for the public good. These measures might require a certain number of sleepless nights, and might suggest a certain amount of alcohol intake. I knew what would happen when I contacted the Field Marshal. Of course I did. Now, I just have to live with it.  </p><p>“Yes. I’m sorry, Nick. I truly am,” she said. “Would you like to tell me more about him? Who was he, to you?”</p><p>“He was the mammal that impregnated my mother. Not much else to say, really. I didn’t know him very well. He left my mother and I when I was… probably 9 years old. Something like that. </p><p>"We all had collars, of course, but we told ourselves that it wasn’t too bad. He could not accept it, you know? ‘It’ll get worse,’ he would say, and my mother would tell him not to talk about such things because it might scare me, their son,” I said, remembering. “He was impatient, and he would stay out evenings with his friends, when he was around at all. Later, much later, I realized that they really were talking about a revolution.”</p><p>“I know about some of that,” Dora’s image replied. “Skylar II was just looking for an excuse for war, and then Skylar III got one when. That is, when her sister was killed.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said. I had no idea what else to say. Dora was keeping a kind of distance between her official, and unofficial, lives, and I could only respect that. I don't to that, or not the same way.  </p><p>“It’s OK, Nick. Not your fault, you know? What Sweeney and the Bellweather were doing was evil, and someone had to do something about it,” she replied. She was trying to make it sound like she agreed with me, but I knew that she had not been in favor, or not entirely in favor, of the war. Reynard had told me that it had been supposed to be Skylar II's war, not the current Skylar III, and the Union Army was supposed to attack Zystopia, and the Confederation Army in the city, not Nova.  </p><p>I wonder if she wants to discuss the progress of the Confederation efforts to prepare for the Union Army? They’re about as prepared as they are going to be, which is quite a great deal, actually. The Confederation is badly outnumbered, but they might win, if they can make the Union give up. James, Hopper that is, thinks it’s possible, but he doesn't act like it's very likely. </p><p>Her image inhaled, visibly, and then asked me a fairly odd question. “Would you like me to come and see you? Maybe this evening?”</p><p> </p><p>Several hours later, I was at the airport, waiting for her plane. She had said she’d be arriving ‘around 9 PM’ as she put it, but I’m not sure if she meant Zystopia time or Novan? It was just now 9, and the control tower people said there were no planes from Nova on the way, and no flight plans scheduled. </p><p>"Did she take a car?" I asked Frank, and he just shrugged.  </p><p>Dora sent me a text, and I was half afraid to read it, expecting some sort of excuse about not being able to visit. Instead, it said, ‘AT YOUR PLACE. YOU ARE NOT HERE.’ </p><p>And there were two other texts. From Finn: ‘WHO THE BABE?’</p><p>From James: ‘I HAVE PUT THE YOUND LADY AND HER ASSISTANTS IN THE STUDY.’ </p><p>I sighed, typed out a reply to Dora, and turned to Frank. “Right. Back to the car,” I said, and he nodded. </p><p> </p><p>I wanted to ask Frank to speed back to the mansion, but I didn’t. I suppose I could have requested a police escort and had the streets cleared, but, again, I didn’t. I don’t want to become the sort of mammal that does that sort of thing because they miss their girlfriend, or any other sort of personal reason. </p><p>We made good time anyway, and I jumped out of the car almost before it stopped rolling, near the front door. I caught an amused look from the cop at the front door as he opened the door and I rushed past. It was Lobo and I’m sure he knew perfectly well why I was in a hurry. He might have said something like “good luck,” but I wasn’t really listening. </p><p>I stopped outside the study and caught my breath as James re-arranged my suit into more dignified lines. The he opened the door and announced me to my guests, the way he’s never done before. “The Honorable Mr. Wilde,” he said. I guess that is how one addresses a mayor, after all. </p><p>There were three mammals in the room, seated in chairs in front of my desk. One vixen, Dora, and two wolves, one male and one female. The wolves were the same guards I met when I visited her in Nova the last time, but here, now, they were pretending to be some sort of administrative assistants. If they were armed, and I’m pretty sure they were, I could not tell, and I realized that I could not remember their names.  </p><p>They all three wore the kind of dark colored, buttoned up, professional attire that suggested they were business mammals of some sort. The females wore skirts and the male, pants. Both females had the traditional Novan hoods. </p><p>I walked toward them, started to go around, and then, suddenly, realized that I was about to seat myself behind my desk, like these were just some business mammals, or possibly just one mammal with a lawyer and an accountant, with whom I had a purely professional relationship. That is, a mammal in whose arms I had not slept. </p><p>I stopped next to her chair and looked at the wolves. “Hello,” I said, and they nodded like this was all perfectly normal. </p><p>“Would you….” I said to them, but I wasn’t sure how to say ‘leave me alone with my girlfriend.’</p><p>“Of course,” the female said, and beckoned to the male. “We’ll be outside if you need us,” she replied, more or less to both of us. </p><p>They left and closed the door behind themselves, or possibly James closed the door. I wasn’t really paying attention to them. Instead, I sat in one of their still warm chairs, and then looked at Dora. “Join me?” I asked and she did. </p><p>Time passed, in a very agreeable way. </p><p>“Are you thirsty? I could summon James to get whatever you might like,” I said. I was still in the chair, but now I was also mostly under Dora. She had both arms around me, and my muzzle was at about her chest level.  </p><p>“No. I would rather not. I’m quite comfortable like this,” she replied, amused. She had her hood pulled back, fully exposing her ears, somewhat scandalously for a Novan vixen, and I wasn’t sure where, exactly, my shirt had gotten to, or when it had been discarded, exactly. “At least not yet.”</p><p>I nodded, very content. I didn’t want to move, but I didn’t want to spend the night here either.</p><p>I knew, now, that she didn’t care if James saw us like this. For her, servants were a fact of life, always present, never being noticed, kind of like mobile furniture. It was a strange world view that I suppose I’ll have to come to understand, eventually. </p><p>I wondered how I might sneak the two of us to my room near my office on third floor, but of course I knew that was impossible. I put my shirt back on and she combed her fur to look at least somewhat like we hadn't been acting like horney teenagers, and then I opened the door, nodded to the wolf standing there, and we went upstairs. </p><p>She did not hold my paw, but only squeezed and then let go when I tried. She doesn’t seem to like that public display of affection thing, I guess.   </p><p>We passed various mammals and one of her wolves trailed after us, saying nothing. Finn leered at me, and made a rude gesture when he knew Dora could not see. I frowned at him, but he just repeated the movement of his paws. I'll have to ask him how things are with Judy.   </p><p> </p><p>“How long can you stay?” I asked, the next morning, during breakfast. James had brought us breakfast in bed, after knocking politely. I answered the door and didn't open it all the way until he turned around, and James didn't act as if anything at all was out of the ordinary, for which I was profoundly grateful.  </p><p>Her wolves, who she called Bonnie and Clyde, did not eat with us, of course. That sort of thing was just NOT DONE in Nova, and there is always a very clear line between the servants and the nobility. The wolves, who I am pretty sure are not named Bonnie or Clyde, would have been mortified had I even suggested the sort of familiarity that eating with us would have implied. This is one of the things that Dora and I will have to discuss, eventually, but, not today. Not today. </p><p>“You know I can’t stay today. The Union is going to move, and the queen-“</p><p>I interrupted her. “But you’re not the queen, right?” I know who she wants to pretend to be, and why it’s important that she is Dora sometimes. </p><p>“I wasn’t, and I’m not, while I’m here,” she replied. Her scent was one of contentment, and I wished I could smell her scent every morning. I’ll have to talk to James about not getting the bed linens changed. At least for awhile.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think the way they're acting is kind of silly, but my thinking is that Nick would be very terrible at interacting with a female that he actually loves, and Dora wouldn't be much better. Dora has read a great many books about the subject [and recently did NOT expect any sort of romance in whatever marriage she had to make], and Nick has done this sort of thing wrong many many times, so they're just kind of stumbling their way through it. </p><p>Also, I'm not writing what they're actually doing in their private moments because I don't especially want that sort of thing in this story. If anyone does want that, or something like it, I may do another Volume with Nick and Dora, and Finn and Judy, or I might start putting in more details, but it would not be the sort of X-rated smut you might get in so many other stories. I just don't think it's very original and, for that matter, I don't think it has a great deal to do with character development. As another AO3 author [I don't remember exactly who] wrote, "there are only so many ways to write 'throbbing member and wet pussy'". I suppose I could brush off my copy of my thesaurus, but I'd really rather not.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Large Problem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick, after having fun in the previous chapter, has less fun in this one.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>However, there are many things I do that I don’t enjoy, or I don’t enjoy them as much. </p><p>I have various things I do every week. One of these involves taking a day to talk to mammals that don’t agree with me. I find them in various ways: some are from one of the public comments boards, they’re mammals that caused trouble during a speech, they shouted excessively at other mammals in the streets, they’re on one of the secondary watch lists I inherited from Marshal Reynard, or they’ve said something interesting while being arrested by the PDZ. </p><p>We don’t have a completely free press, here in Zystopia. Mammals do talk to each other, and so I eventually hear about nearly everything if I talk to enough mammals. Sometimes I have to use various means to encourage some of them to get to the point, however. </p><p>Now that I think about it, most of my job is talking to mammals, and I’ve learned the importance of the phrase, 'and what do you think we should do?' because I simply cannot run the city by myself. It’s impossible, and most mammals are rational enough to see reason if I talk to them enough.</p><p>Some, however, are harder to deal with. </p><p> </p><p>For this mammal, I had to take the call in my office on Muzzletime, and I could not meet him muzzle to muzzle, as I had in the past. Officially, I had to speak to him from my office because he is too large and my office is too small. </p><p>Unofficially, I’m not sure if he would accept my promise that he would not be arrested as soon as he entered this building, and I could not visit him because I know perfectly well that he’s not willing to be as reasonable as Mr. Big or Jack Savage. During our last conversation, one of this mammal's aides threatened to ‘flatten’ me, and it didn’t sound, look, or smell, like a joke.  </p><p>I would rather not deal with him at all, but I have to because most of the megafauna in the city listen to him. That’s not a large a block of mammals, in numbers, compared to Savage, and not the sort of focused, concentrated power that Big possesses in Tundratown, but megafauna do make up a significant portion of the city’s population, and they do, or they used to do, many of the more important jobs. Lately, many of them have been shifted to positions more fitting to their skills, in the same way that all mammals have had to accept. The ones that lost the good jobs, for which most of them were not qualified, apparently got angry about it and found a leader that I'm talking to this morning.  </p><p>“Good morning, Mr. Gaur,” I said, when I saw his image. As usual, he had chosen a kind of rock motif background, and subdued lighting with no windows, as if to suggest some sort of underground fortress. </p><p>He didn’t reply immediately, and I thought, briefly, that we were having technical difficulties. I was not to be so lucky. </p><p>“Yes. Good morning, Mr. Wilde,” he replied, and flicked one ear, when he said this. I knew this was meant as a subtle show of what he thought of me. Basically, he thinks I’m too small to be anything other than annoying. </p><p>“That’s Mr. Mayor, or Mayor Wilde,” I replied. “I know you don’t like me, but you could at least respect my office.”</p><p>“Your office? By what right do you hold that position? My mammals were not consulted, and so, you’re not our mayor,” he replied. “You don’t represent us.”</p><p>“I see, but I will point out that I am the mayor of Zystopia because the city was in disorder. Order was restored by the Confederation Army, and the leader of that army, Marshal Reynard, appointed me mayor. The situation was somewhat chaotic at the time, so the Marshal didn't contact the mammals of this city before he moved in,” I replied. I nearly said ‘any mammal’ instead of 'the mammals', but that would have been untrue. Reynard had many contacts prior to the invasion, including my own father. </p><p>“Yes. A fox,” the buffalo said, amused. “Who is now hundreds of miles away, with that army. An army that is fighting for its life against the far superior Union army.” </p><p>And currently winning that fight, but I don’t bother to point that out. “We’ve been over this ground before. </p><p>"Should I expect some sort of official manifesto? Maybe a list of grievances?” I replied, trying to keep my own anger in check. I know perfectly well that he thinks leaders should be chosen based on size, and I know that Lionheart was chosen, in part, to satisfy him and his mammals. I know the Bellweather had some sort of lever against Gaur, but I don’t know what it was. </p><p>“Don’t play word games with me. You know perfectly well what our grievances are and have been. We have informed you several times,” he replied. “Our position, legally, is as iron clad as your own.”</p><p>He’s partially right, of course. The manifesto and the lists are on his website, and it is all as legal as my administration's own current, and not fully ratified, version of a constitution. In any case, even if the constitution was fully binding for all city residents, it does not precisely define what hate speech is (and is not), and so Gaur's calls for ‘armed, if necessary, resistance to the micro fauna aggressors’ could not be used by me as an excuse to arrest him. I was initially surprised, when I first read it, that he didn't say 'predator aggressors,' but he's probably trying to get as many large predators to join him as possible. </p><p>“I understand that your grievances include, but are not limited to, the over representation of predators on the council, and the apparent, as you put it, lack of respect paid to our Union neighbors?” I replied, in an attempt to reach some sort of common ground by demonstrating that I care enough to be familiar with his position. “Does that sum it up?”</p><p>“Those are acceptable as minimal starting points,” he replied, sitting back in his chair, slightly. </p><p>“OK. Who would you like me to put on the council? You have a candidate in mind?” I knew who it would be, but I had to ask to move the conversation along. </p><p>“Me. You will give me a seat on the council," he said, and then continued before I could reply.</p><p>"And you will remove one of the current predators, probably John Smith, to make room for me. You will remove Jack Savage as well. Bunny Borough has no legal standing alongside my Zystopia,” the big buffalo said. “Those little rabbits are, and have always been, irrelevant.”</p><p>And I’ve heard that before. Bunny Borough was, before the liberation, a legal protectorate of the city of Zystopia, and rabbits were not considered to be full citizens. I addressed that problem weeks ago.  </p><p>“I see. Well, you must know that Savage won’t be removed. How about I give you a seat on the council, and then we see what we can do to address your other concerns,” I replied. “In exchange, you’ll stop calling for armed resistance, and soften your stance against Bunny Borough. I’m sure some additional compromises can be-“</p><p>The screen went blank as he hung up on me. I sighed, and took a minute to just stare at the screen. </p><p>“James? We got anyone waiting?” </p><p>“We do, sir,” he replied.</p><p>“Send in the next.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have Chapter 13 written as well, but not quite ready for posting. It's very similar to this one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Making Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick continues to work at staying in touch with "normal" mammals, if there is such a thing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another shorter than average chapter, but I had initially planned to post them as one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And what do we have here?” I asked, in my best, ‘I don’t care, and I want my guest to know it,’ tone of voice, several appointments, and hours, later. I do care, actually, but I have found that an openly expressed, and clearly disinterested, attitude seems to work better with this particular type of attention seeker.  </p><p>The raccoon standing in front of me was of average size, and really, he seemed to be average in nearly every way. He had not been injured recently, and I had documented evidence of this including the standard PDZ body camera footage and a report from the doctor on duty at the emergency room.  </p><p>“I’m Jason Sparrows, I am. I’m thinking you’re the mayor or some ugly doppleganger,” my guest replied. He had a certain apathetic scent, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I know that ‘Sparrows’ is not his real name, but I was willing to play along for now, if I could keep him on track.</p><p>“What was the charge, Jason? And did you do it?” I asked. This mammal, like so many others before him, came to me from jail. The police had arrested this one after he reprogrammed the traffic signs in Tundratown to show a message accusing me of making a secret deal with the Union, but Sparrows was unable to hide his IRL apartment address from our cybercrimes unit, who then informed nearby patrol mammals. And, now, here he is.  </p><p>“I didn’t do nothing wrong. I know my rights-“</p><p>I interrupted him, having heard speeches like this many, many times. “Sparrows. The arresting officers said you declined your right to remain silent, and I note that you were charged with attempting to incite a riot when you claimed that the police were hurting you. We have to address that.”</p><p>“They were mean to me, and I didn’t deserve to be treated that way! Those signs just told the truth. Every mammals deserves to know the truth and-“</p><p>“Spare me your rhetoric,” I interrupted him. “The traffic signs are public property, and that means they are not your property to do with as you please. If you just answer my questions, I might pardon you, and you might not go to jail for the next however many years, or, failing that, get frozen into an icicle.”</p><p>He flinched, remembering where, exactly, those signs had been, and which of my counselors is in charge there. “Ain’t gonna pardon me,” he replied, somewhat sullen now.</p><p>“Why would I not?”</p><p>“You’re in power. You can’t let me loose, can’t let me out there telling mammals what’s really going on. You have to shut me up,” he said, brightening into smugness again. </p><p>Well, Ok. Somebody has a high opinion of himself, and it’s not me this time. </p><p>“Alright, sit down. I’ve got three things to say to you. First, mammals deserve to be treated fairly, which should be the way they treat others. Mammals deserve to be fed, or at least to have the chance to feed themselves. You deserve the right to express yourself, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to seriously inconvenience several thousand mammals, including emergency vehicles, trying to get from point A to point B.</p><p>“Second, the police report says some of the mammals nearby were arguing with you after the police arrived. Apparently, they don’t agree with your views,” I paused, waiting to see if he was interested, at all, in hearing what else I might have to say. He was.  </p><p>“And third?”</p><p>“Third, you didn’t tell me what you think you did wrong, so I’m getting the idea that you really don’t know.”</p><p>“I told everyone something that you don’t want them to know,” he replied, thrusting his chest out a little. His is not an athletic build, and he’s not a very athletic mammal, so it wasn’t very impressive. “I’ve got only one life to give for my nation, and I regret that.”</p><p>And I regret that you can’t seem to get that quote right. </p><p>Aloud, I said, “you don’t know what I’m doing behind the scenes, but you do know that I’m sitting right here in front of you right now. If I’m that kind of mammal, what stops me from calling my guards, which are right outside the door, so I can have one of them come in here and shoot you. Well, he’ll take you outside first, and THEN he’ll shoot you, but it’s the same for you, really.”</p><p>That’s not going to happen, but Jason doesn’t know that. Frank is on duty at the moment, and he would refuse an order to kill some mammal he’s never met. A mammal that is obviously not an immediate threat to me or anyone else. However, Jack seems to expect me to behave this way, and so, I continue to play along.  </p><p>“You can’t do that! It’s illegal!” He replied. Now, his scent was one of outraged dignity. “You wouldn’t dare! My followers-“</p><p>“What followers? How many?” I asked, and he didn’t reply. </p><p>“Look, I’m trying to find a reason to be lenient, but you’re making it harder for me.</p><p>“There is no deal with the Union. They hate predators like us. There are deals with the Confederation, but everyone knows that,” I said, and he glared at me.</p><p>“I know things that others don’t. Lots of useful things,” he said. </p><p>“I seriously doubt that,” I replied, going back to my initial attitude. </p><p>“I know about a plan for a demonstration next week.” Sparrows shot back. “They’re going to demand changes, and then they’re going to attack the PDZ mammals that show up. They’ll say that they’re just peaceful demonstrators, and that you sicked the riot police on them. They’re going to invite the Union to send in troops to restore order.”</p><p>“They?” I asked, as if I had no idea. I wasn’t worried about the Union coming in because they didn’t have enough soldiers close enough, but an invitation like this would be very useful propaganda for them when they do finally attack. “Who is ‘they’?”</p><p>“The megafuana. You know, the elephants and buffalos and such?” He said. </p><p>“That’s ridiculous. I’ve heard nothing at all about them not being satisfied,” I replied, and felt a little guilty about lying to him. </p><p>“Obviously. But then, you don’t have as many contacts as you did, do you? With your secret police under new management. I knows mammals and they talk to me.”</p><p>He smiled and sat back. His scent was back to being self satisfied now that I was taking him more seriously. </p><p>“OK, maybe they do. And maybe you do know one or two things,” I said. “What do you think I should do?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Notes: the official reason for the liberation of Zystopia, on Z+7 days, was to restore order, or anyway, that’s what Marshal Reynard told Nick and the Union Ambassador that afternoon. See Volume 1</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Blue LIne</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another police chief has been chosen, and this is her first day at work. To say she is somewhat unprepared is an understatement.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Officer Clawhauser, “Claw” to his friends, was having a pretty good morning. I was just now 8:00 AM, there was some new gossip involving Gazelle and he had not yet eaten all of his morning donuts. ‘Maybe this losing weight thing won’t be as hard as I expected,’ he thought, and looked away from the door. </p><p>He had just turned back when he saw the polar bear standing in front of his desk.</p><p>“Officer?” The bear asked, and the cheetah didn’t, quite, squeal in surprise. </p><p>The bear was a very large mammal, what is often called a 'megafauna,' and her clothes, while very formal, were not any sort of uniform. Claw knew many bears in the ZPD, but none of them had this particular shade of fur. He knew only browns and blacks. </p><p>“Yes, ma’am? May I help you?” He asked, knowing that his job was, first, to make visitors feel welcome, and then, second, to determine what sort of information he would need to provide, and to whom. </p><p>“Probably,” the bear said. “I’m your new police chief.” </p><p>“Yes, ma’am?” The over weight cat replied, without any clue what else to say. Both previous chiefs, Hopps and Delgato, had at least shown up in uniform, and neither of them had had this sort of uncertain scent, standing in front of the reception desk. Hopps had actually jumped up on the desk! On the other paw, Hopps and Delgato were both internal promotions. This bear was clearly not from the PDZ. </p><p>After several seconds of additional silence, Clawhauser tried doing his job again. “The morning briefing is about to start. You could, that is, attend? If you like?”</p><p>“I suppose. Unfortunately, I do not know where the briefing room is located,” the bear said, looking around. “This is my first time in this building.”</p><p>Officer Clawhauser considered many replies, but, wisely, fell back on continuing to do his job. “Ma’am. The briefing room is to your right, past me, through the double doors. Would you like me to announce you?” </p><p>He was thinking, ‘why did the council pick you if you've never even been here?’</p><p>“I suppose it couldn't hurt,” she replied. “I am Ursula Freidkin. Who is the senior officer on duty at the moment, by the way?”</p><p>“That would be Leftenant Hopps. She’s kind of third shift-“ </p><p>“Kind of?” The bear interrupted, quirking an eyebrow, and then leaning on the desk.</p><p>The big cat continued speaking, “and usually attends the morning briefings, goes off shift, and then signs back in again, sometimes during the second half of second shift. Lately, she’s been doing that less often.” He wasn’t sure if he should say ma’am again, but the bear appeared not to notice anyway. </p><p>“Right. So, who’s been doing these briefings? Delgato?”</p><p>The question surprised Clawhauser. “No, ma’am. Former Chief Delgato was. That is, he’s no longer with the ZPD. That is, the PDZ.”</p><p>“OK. I was thinking they would keep him until I reported for duty and then we could do a kind of transfer of command ceremony kind of thing,” the bear replied, thinking about how change of command ceremonies were done in the old Zystopian Army. “Apparently, not.” </p><p>Wisely, again, the cheetah said nothing. Delgato had not been happy to find out that he was to be replaced, and had, in the words of officers nearby, ‘thrown a fit,’ when informed. In the end, Delgato didn’t need to be physically restrained, and the Mayor’s guards didn’t shoot him, but it was evidently a near thing. </p><p>The bear nodded and walked around the desk, to her right, continued to the doors and then paused. She put a paw near the door button and looked a question at Clawhauser. </p><p>“Chief Freidkin is in the building,” the big cat announced over the public address system.</p><p> </p><p>The very first impression Freidkin had, after opening the briefing room doors, was that the room was packed with blue uniformed mammals. The second impression was that they already had a chief of police, and so she might not even be necessary. </p><p>Leftenant Hopps was giving a briefing, as if she had done it dozens of times before, and probably had. This was, and was not, a surprise. It was a surprise because Ursula Freidkin had heard that Hopps’ term as police chief had not been a happy one, and that Mayor Wilde had demoted her back to leftenant without even discussing it with her first. It was not a surprise, however, after what Clawhauser had said recently, and what Bigg had told her before that.</p><p>“Who was that?” the rabbit asked, looking at the speakers in the ceiling. Then she looked at the polar bear, just inside the doors. </p><p>“And who are you?” The rabbit was standing on a stool behind the podium, and there was a list of assignments on the chalk board behind her. “You’re probably-“</p><p>“I am Ursula Freidkin, recently in service to Mr. Bigg as a personal assistant,” the bear said, unintentionally interrupting the rabbit. Freidkin could feel the eyes of every officer in the room on her, and she hoped no one asked what, exactly, had been her ‘assistant’ duties. “He asked me to take over for former chief Delgato. I wasn’t told that Delgado was gone, and that you had been assigned as chief. Again?” </p><p>“No, no, I haven’t been reassigned, but no one else has been assigned either. Someone has to do it, so, I’m doing it,” the rabbit replied. Her ears were up and focused on the bear. </p><p>‘That fits your reputation,’ Ursual thought. ‘And apparently you want your old job back?’</p><p>Aloud, Freidkin said, “OK, but I have a few things I need to say. Please take a seat.” </p><p>The rabbit, shrugged, nodded, jumped off the stool, and then bounced up on one of the tables in the front of the room, on the left, near a lupine sergeant, whose name plate read “Wolford.” Wolford didn’t seem to be at all annoyed or surprised by the action, and moved his coffee cup slightly to be out of the rabbit’s way. </p><p>Most of the other cops had the kind of closed body language that Freidkin knew to associate with a certain lack of cooperation in the future; they were all looking at her like she was an intruder. </p><p>‘Popular with the troops, isn’t she?’ Freidkin thought, and tried not to frown. ‘Definitely need to talk to her in private later.’</p><p>“Good morning. I am Police Chief Ursula Freidkin. You can all call me chief. I am the replacement for former Chief Delgato, and I’ll be moving my things into his office,” the polar bear said. She looked at Hopps. “That is, if the office is clear?”</p><p>“It’s clear. Ma’am,” the rabbit said, with a certain pause before the honorific. She seemed very uncertain until the wolf nodded, very slightly. </p><p>“I take it no one here was informed that I would be arriving?”</p><p>“No, we were told, last week, that a replacement would be selected, but we weren’t told when that replacement would actually be here,” Wolford said, after another quick look at Hopps, who was now very obviously checking her emails. </p><p>“Right,” the bear replied, realizing that she really should have gotten a proper uniform before doing this.  She had never actually been a police mammal before, had never expected to ever be a police mammal, and didn’t realize, when she found out yesterday, that literally EVERYONE else would be in uniform. ‘I wonder what the heck my rank insignia is supposed look like? Do I have to wear anything ridiculous?’</p><p>“So, what happens now?” The new chief asked, looking at Hopps. “Would you like to continue your briefing?”</p><p>The rabbit and the wolf shared another look, Judy looked at several of the other officers, and then she said, “I do have a few things I need to discuss. With your permission, chief?”</p><p>“Of course,” the polar bear replied, and stepped away from the podium. “Please be prepared to stay and talk to me afterward.”</p><p>The rabbit jumped back up on the stool, and resumed her briefing with no additional indication that she had been interrupted. “We’ve been informed that there will be a demonstration, by megafauna, in regard to their, apparently, lower status in current society. We have also been informed, by reliable sources, that the demonstration will become a riot. Major Hopper's participation is expected, and we will-“</p><p>Ursual Friedkin listened with a growing sense of unreality. Her history as a trouble shooter for the Mob, and her life as a mega fauna, had not prepared her for the way the ‘good guys’ did things, and had not prepared her for the somewhat matter of fact way they discussed the best way to, for example, prevent mammals from hurting each other while exercising their rights to free speech. </p><p>“This is the belly of the beast. And now, I’m one of them,” the bear thought, not realizing that she was subvocalizing. And that Hopps could hear her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Protests</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Not everyone agrees with Nick Wilde's vision for the direction for the city.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Z + 1 year, approximately. I'm working my way back toward the events of Chapters 1 and 2.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nothing happens in secret, not really. Someone always bears witness. In this, case, it’s a squirrel on top of a building, not far from Little Rodentia. She was a budding reporter, all of 15 cycles, or a teenager, in other words. Everyone in her classes knew about the planned mega fauna march, and everyone had heard the endless “let’s keep it peaceful and don’t start nothing, OK?” speeches from the older mammals. The 'big ones' were not starving, of course, but still, they were dissatisfied, and they were willing to gather in a herd and make sure those feelings were known to others. </p><p>The squirrel watched herds gathering to her right and below, saw the clubs and riot shields of the cops strung out across a nearby cross street, to her left, three regular stories down, and noticed nothing interesting after the first arrivals of cops and protestors. It was past her normal bedtime, but her parents were out of town, and so, she stayed at her post, expecting to fall asleep without seeing anything else. Tomorrow was a weekend, anyway, so it didn’t matter, really. </p><p>As a squirrel, she knew very few elephants, bison, or hippos, but she knew some of them were very unhappy. Current classmates of hers, once wealthy, were now living less luxurious lives at public institutions like the one Amanda attended. She always looked up to those mammals, both literally and figuratively, and now was her chance to film their plight and then spread the word. </p><p>At midnight, as if the time was a signal, something happened. One of the elephants, out of view of most of the rest of the cops, and definitely out of view of the PDZ, struck a polar bear in the back of the head with a club, and, just like that, the bear collapsed in the street. There had been no warning, and, to the squirrel, the bear seemed to be dead. She had heard the sound of it, and froze in fear. </p><p>The elephant shouted, “my friend has been hurt!”</p><p>The PDZ responded by sending several officers to investigate, but those officers were not yet very close when the elephant shouted again and pointed, “the cops! They killed a mammal! That bear. That cop just killed him!”</p><p>Things happened fast after that. As if on signal, rocks were thrown and several of the megafauna, including the elephant, grappled with the officers nearby, and then charged at the weakened police line, further away, which wavered, and then broke. Amanda, wisely, hid on her rooftop and tried not to be noticed. </p><p> </p><p>This time, I had some warning that I would have a crowd visiting tonight, and so I didn’t bother to try to sleep or even change clothes at all. The action started around 6 PM in other parts of the city, and then there was a kind of waiting, and a more or less constant stream of reports from all over the city. These reports usually consisted of the same sorts of messages, 'thousands of buffalo present' or 'hundreds of elephants, rhinos, and hippos present,' for me to review. There was also, always, so far, some form of the statement, 'peaceful.' </p><p>By 10 PM, there were about a hundred mega-fauna, mostly herbivores, outside my residence. They had signs and they chanted in unison, “equality for all.” I expect that’s not what all of these mammals wanted, but it made a good three word slogan. There were, of course, some participants that had no plans for violence, and I knew that, but it was hard to watch and wait and not be at least a little angry.</p><p>The last time a crowd formed here, we weren’t ready. This time, we were. There was a fence fifty meters from the house, and after that, at twenty meters, portable, and recently installed, concrete barriers. I had wanted more than twenty meters, but this area of town is fairly well built up. On the plus side, I also had some of Major Hopper’s mammals, and several vehicles, standing by in the parking garage, out of sight, and twenty meters were enough for them to deploy. </p><p>At midnight, some members of the crowd started urging others forward, and those others surged, pushing against the fence. They knocked it down and passed over it, but paused at the concrete barriers. </p><p>I checked to make sure the transparent shield was operating, and then went back out on my balcony because I believe, as mayor, that I need to always at least TRY to talk mammals down when they may be about to do something stupid. Outside, I could smell them, but unlike the crowd last time, there was more alcohol, anger, and hate this time. I knew there would be no hugging, this time, and then shrugged as the irrelevant thought crossed my mind. </p><p>“Mammals,” I began, using the loudspeakers, but I wasn’t able to finish. Several bullets struck the screen to my left, and the bullets vaporized. The effect was not very energetic, and may not have been apparent to anyone in the crowd below, but I certainly noticed it. I am not sure the sniper noticed what happened to the bullets. He, or she, ceased fire when it became obvious that there was no effect. </p><p>The crowd didn't react, and didn't try to climb the barriers as I had about half expected. I went back inside, and then downstairs to the council chambers. Once there, I motioned to two mammals, and jumped up on a convenient stool by the door.    </p><p>“Major Hopper, Chief Freidkin, this is a state of emergency declared by me and approved by the council,” I told them. John, James, Edward, Ursula, and Jack were physically present, in the house, and I had Mr. Bigg on video phone. Bigg was in Tundratown, and I had wanted Friedkin to be at PDZ head quarters, but she had asked to be here instead. “Colonel, there is a sniper out there, and I don’t much like getting shot at. Have mammals grab him, or, if necessary, take him out at long range if it looks like he's going to shoot at someone else.”</p><p>Colonel Hopper nodded, and motioned to one of his aides, who rushed out of the room. The controls for the shield generator would be able to provide information related to the size, location, and speed of the bullet when it hit. From that, if the sniper was dumb enough to stay in one spot, we could find him. We had drones in the air, of course, but all the nearby rooftops had been, and still were, clear, so the sniper must have been using a window. </p><p>“And keep these crowds," I continued, to both of them, as I motioned toward the barriers. "Out of this building, by any means necessary. Curfew is in effect immediately. Instruct all mammals to return to their homes.”</p><p>“ROE as we discussed previously?” The bear asked, for both of them. This was her very polite way of asking, ‘have you changed your mind about shooting mammals if we have to?’ She had on a blue uniform, and her lapels bore the stars of a police chief. Her scent indicated a kind of anger, but very controlled. I knew Mr. Bigg's feelings about civil disobedience of any kind, and Bigg recommended Freidkin, so I suppose I should not have been surprised. </p><p>Hopper was wearing what I thought of as his working clothes; camouflaged, with lots of pockets. He was also wearing a pistol, in violation of the usual rule against anyone being armed in this room, but I wasn't going to say anything about it after I had told him, twice, that he, or his mammals, may have to kill some other mammals shortly. He looked, acted, and smelled, very calm.  </p><p>“Rules of Engagement are as discussed," I said. We had, of course, been talking about this all evening, and part of the previous day, and so everyone knew what they needed to do. However, I'm a big believer in repeating certain things. "Deadly force is authorized, in self defense, or after appropriate verbal warnings, and verbal warnings will be repeated more or less constantly by loudspeaker, to prevent further death of, or harm to, citizens. Warning shots and rubber bullets will be used first if citizens refuse to turn away or stop when called to do so. Lethal ammunition will be available in nearby vehicles if mobs get too close to members of the PDZ, medical personnel, fire department personnel, or the military vehicles. Soldiers and police have the right to defend themselves, and are authorized to use deadly force, up to and including the weapons on their vehicles, if necessary." I had to add that last part because a hippo might not even notice being shot by a hand weapon held by a squirrel or a rabbit. Or a fox. </p><p>“Citizens observed in commission of the crime of arson, if the building is occupied, or other felony crime against other citizens, may be engaged at range with deadly force. Citizens breaking windows or throwing rocks at buildings will not be arrested immediately if this would put soldiers in danger, but their images were be recorded for later prosecution. Citizens throwing rocks at police will not be engaged with lethal ammunition unless our mammals are taking casualties." </p><p>“Record the warnings and the notice of the curfew, and repeat them, on a loop by loudspeaker from vehicles all over the city. I won’t have anyone saying tomorrow that they didn’t know what was going on,” I concluded. "And remember to record everything. Members of the mobs will be certainly be doing so."</p><p>They turned to go back to their desks, with the video connections to appropriate subordinates. "Ursula? A moment?"</p><p>She stopped, turned back to me, and raised a single eyebrow. I wondered if that was due to my use of her first name? She hasn't been chief very long, so I'm still not sure how to interpret her various tells. </p><p>"These are all citizens, OK?" I remined her. "Until a crime is committed, by someone identified as a criminal by their own actions, everyone should be treated as lawful mammals. OK?"</p><p>"Of course, Mr. Mayor. Right up to that point. You do know that it's going to go to that point? That the ROE you just issued, and we recorded, is going to be questioned later," she said. </p><p>Her tone was such that she might have been talking about the weather, rather than talking about something that could easily conclude with me in jail, even if this state of emergency was more or less successfully ended. On the other paw, at least it kept me from thinking about what might happen to all of us if the mob got in.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was always going to happen, in some form or other, because Reynard couldn’t just show up and give a few orders, and everyone would simply accept it. When I started writing, I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to do the protests. There was some thought given to having Mr. Big be in charge of some sort of counter revolution, but then I thought he would be better joining the new government, with the “behind the scenes” persuasion provided in Volume 1.</p><p>I am in favor of peaceful protests, and I’ve seen one, here in Nashville. Hundreds or thousands of people marching [really, they’re walking, but people call it marching] in one direction, with a singular goal, that is, to be seen, together, for a cause. There were no chants, or maybe only briefly, and few signs, really. Just…. People all moving together. They had assembled in the northern part of Nashville, possibly at the Farmers’ Market [?] and I was near the capital building, on Charlotte Avenue [near 7th Ave], as they passed by, on their way east, toward the court house, I presume. There were few cops in attendance, and I don’t remember seeing any trouble at all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Cops and Rioters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The city is in chaos, and the PDZ and the Army are barely keeping up with demand for personnel to cover the various targets. There is, of course, a somewhat obvious target about which they had forgotten.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was, as Mayor Wilde said, a state of emergency. Crowds of, mostly, megafauna had been told to go home, and they had refused. Some were committing vandalism, or assaulting smaller mammals near the gatherings. News reports were scattered and no one seemed to know what was going on. Some said there had been no one killed, and some said the cops were indiscriminately killing protestors. </p><p>Soldiers and police were in position all over the city. The police were near the rioters, and the soldiers were in positions near critical targets including Little Rodentia. Emergency lines were flooded with calls of assaults by mega fauna against smaller mammals. The PDZ, however, were unable to respond properly because there were not enough mammals in blue or green to meet every demand, and so, some sacrifices had had to be made and some locations had had to make due with too few mammals.   </p><p> </p><p>Commander Ursula Freidkin left the governor’s mansion around 3 AM to return to the PDZ head quarters, which was closer to the center of town, not far away. She took an official car, of course, with a driver, because the city was currently in chaos. Also, she was the police chief, and the first police chief, Hopps, had had a driver, so now all chiefs got one. </p><p>‘My first report to the Council went well,’ she thought. She was in the car, and enjoying a short break. ‘Bigg is letting me get used to my new role and not pushing too hard on things that I have not, yet, been able to change. And he supports me when other council members attack my position! </p><p>‘Especially that John character. What is it with him and his ‘I’m the mayor’s hatchet man’ thing anyway?’</p><p>She was in the parking garage, under PDZ, when she heard gunfire, above, and her radio came back to life with reports. </p><p>“Big Dog,” it said. “This is Starbase.” The name ‘dog’ had been chosen to confuse, if possible, the various unauthorized people who were known to listen in on the police scanners. Starbase, of course, was the building, and area, above and around her. </p><p>“We’re under attack,” the voice, probably Clawhauser, was saying. “Unknown number of hostiles. Multiple mega fauna. I saw at least half a dozen come in the front way. Unknown number elsewhere.”</p><p>“This is Bigdog. I am on site, at ZPD, underground. No hostiles apparent in this area-“ She began, but was unable to finish as bullets struck the rear screen of her now parked, and thankfully armored, car. “Engaging hostiles!” She continued, before releasing the push to talk button. </p><p>“Manchas,” she next said to her driver, as he fumbled with his seat belt and weapon. “Find out how many there are! See if you can thin their ranks, but, most importantly, don’t get killed! I’m going to see if I can get help.”</p><p>The big cat nodded and exited the vehicle. She dropped the radio microphone and pulled out her cell phone to phone home. </p><p>“They’ve got a least one polar bear,” the cat said, so that she would know that friendly fire was going to be an issue. </p><p> </p><p>Upstairs, the situation was much the same. Months ago, as one of the first decisions she had made, Commander Hopps had ordered that at least a dozen armed mammals be in this building at all times, and there had been occasional drills. Today, that decision was paying off, even though the mammals now present were not the best and most energetic due to the other mammal power needs tonight.</p><p>Hopps, for example, was not here. She had taken a team and set up a position near the city water supplies.  </p><p>“Everyone carrying lethal now? No tranq darts?” Jubatus asked. Normally a detective; he was the highest ranking officer in the area. Highest ranking in the building as well, at least until Freidkin could officially re-establish control. They knew she was pinned down in the basement parking garage. </p><p>“Yes, sir,” one of the officers responded. Only about half of them had rifles, nobody had any grenades, and they were all behind barricades on the top floor. They had a good view of the bottom levels and the stairs. More weapons were available in the armory, which was locked, and not far from the break room on the first floor.  </p><p>The officers with the cheetah could see several bodies scattered around, unmoving. Not many were wearing blue, but they knew the names of every one of them. Most of the dead intruders were clumped around the stairs. </p><p>“Open fire!” The cat shouted, shooting, as another armored rhino climbed the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>There was more shooting in the garage, and then silence. Manchas peeked over the car, and then stood up, waving his weapon. </p><p>“Over here!” He said, before Freidkin could stop him. </p><p>“Need help?” Raymond asked. He, and his soldiers, had just arrived at PDZ parking garage. They were all polar bears, and all heavily armed and armored. Many also had special breaching equipment including various types of assault grenades.  </p><p>“Thought you’d never ask,” Freidkin replied, smiling. She looked around and nodded to the dozen other white furred bears. “Thanks.” </p><p>“Is our pleasure,” Raymond replied. “And now, I believe there is a building to clear?”</p><p> </p><p>Bigg’s mammals, armed with various heavy weapons, and having actually practiced maneuvers like this, soon got to work rescuing the other PDZ survivors. Bigg would never admit it, but he had made sure all of the bears at his personal compounds knew the layout of ZPD building. Just in case. Clearing the building didn’t take very long, and Bigg’s mammals shot the two buffalos that tried to escape out the front door. </p><p> </p><p>“First order of business,” I said. “Mr. Bigg? You have my thanks, and, I expect, the thanks of this council.”</p><p>Heads nodded around the table and on video, and Bigg, or his image, anyway, replied, “it was my pleasure.”</p><p>“And ours!” Jack said, to general amusement. </p><p>The emergency had lasted about 20 hours, since the first shots were fired, at me. Soldiers, police, and volunteers from Bigg’s mansion had cleared every rebel strongpoint, arrested and disarmed every rebel soldier, and rescued the PDZ. Now, we had the, several hundred, survivors shackled in the football stadium. There were too many for the jail. </p><p>Crowds has not tried to gain entry to the mansion, and so, Major Hopper had not had to order his troops to open fire on them. With the emergency over, we had all gotten a little sleep and then met again to go over the various details. For one thing, we needed to prepare an official statement. </p><p>“So. Moving on?” I asked, and saw Bigg nod.  </p><p>“Go ahead,” he replied. There were few on the council that would refuse any sort of request made by the shrew at this moment. He knew that, and so I was glad that he was being so reasonable. For a brief moment, I wondered if he wanted to be chair mammal?</p><p>“I have asked one of the PDZ detectives to investigate the way this situation began, and then, the way it got of control,” I said, and gestured to the image of the cheetah on the call with us. “Detective Jubatus? Please give your report.”</p><p>“Some mammals are saying that one of our officers, an elephant named Francine, killed a bear by striking him in the back of the head. Apparently with a weapon,” the cheetah said. </p><p>The officer’s nightstick, elephant sized, had been examined and found to be free of damage or blood, so it was clearly not used. There were several possible weapons in the vicinity of the crime, and officers had not been able to secure it until the next day, so no one really had any illusions about proper chain of evidence. </p><p>“I don’t think she did it,” the detective continued. I was remined that he was new at his job, and he didn’t know that when giving a report like this, an opinion is not generally provided. Unless asked. “All the other officers on the scene say she didn’t. Most of them won’t admit that they weren’t watching, but this was a planned event, with careful thought given to where to attack and how to frame the investigation.”</p><p>“Or frame the officer,” Freidkin growled, and I nodded.</p><p>“Go on,” I said, and the cheetah continued. </p><p>“Body camera video has been recovered, of course, and examined. It’s inconclusive. Mammals could say she was purposefully looking away from her target because every cop knows which way those things point.”</p><p>“Well, we are NOT going to let Francine get railroaded at trial. We need the cops on our side,” John said, to general agreement. </p><p>I could not help thinking about the level of candor displayed by saying something like that.</p><p>“But if she did it?” Jack asked, boldly, as several others, including Bigg, directed their now angry muzzles at the table or, for those on camera, at something the rest of us could not see. </p><p>“Yeah. If. If she did it, the evidence must be over whelming. Over whelming enough that the rank and file cops can see that we,” I said, gesturing to the other members of the council, “aren’t doing this for political expediency. Which we will not.”<br/>They all nodded, and nobody mentioned my own comments about expediency. Sometimes unpleasant things need to be said, if for no other reason, than to acknowledge them, so that we can go on.  </p><p>“Moving on. Anyone have any suggestions related to our guests in the stadium?” I asked. “Please don’t suggest shooting or gassing them.”</p><p>“Well. I’m thinking, they don’t like the way things are here, so, they can leave,” John said, and heads nodded, and eyes became thoughtful around the table. </p><p> </p><p>After the meeting, I spoke to Bigg about the actions of his mammals at ZPD. </p><p>“I didn’t realize your mammals had grenade launchers,” I said. Or that they knew quite so much about basic infantry urban battlefield tactics! I am very glad, now, that Major Hopper had not found it necessary to attack Bigg's compounds last year.</p><p>“My son, you can never be too prepared,” he replied.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've had this more or less done for a week, and so I'm going to upload it. I realize there is some story missing, but, I didn't want to get too sidetracked. If anyone asks, I can flesh out this chapter more.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Fate of Edward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Still moving toward catching up to Chapter 2. This chapter explains why Edward wasn't in the Council meeting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“James?” I said into the intercom, “please find Edward and have him join me in my office.”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” James, or his voice anyway, replied. </p><p>I had been putting off this conversation since Marshal Reynard left, nearly a year and a half ago, but now that Nova was about to be over run, I was going to have to clean house. I wasn’t especially eager to confront my own feelings on this matter.  </p><p>The wolf stuck his head in the door, around the frame. “You wanted to see me before the council meeting, boss?” He asked. </p><p>“Well, not really, but you’re here, so come in,” I replied, trying to make it look like I was joking. He noticed anyway, probably due to my scent, and took a seat without further comment after closing the door. This close to each other, and both of us canidae, we can fairly easily tell what the other is thinking.</p><p>“So. How long have we been working together?” I asked. I’ve found that it’s never a good idea to come straight to the point. It bothers some people, and my goal, in any conversation, is usually to get the other mammals to agree with me, so I’ll do whatever I need to make that easier. </p><p>“Ah, since we got you out of prison,” he replied. Now his scent is confused and his ears are canted oddly. He knows something is up, but he doesn’t know what. “Did you want to talk about that? Why we rescued you?”</p><p>“Well, now that you mention it, I did want to discuss your original orders, from the Novan Chancellor,” I replied. “I know you weren’t working for me, at least those first several weeks.”</p><p>“Well, sure,” he replied, and then shrugged. "There was bound to be a transitional period."</p><p>“And I knew that you might be given a literal order of execution if the chancellor thought it necessary. That is, to kill and replace me.”</p><p>“Ah. Ha. Right,” the wolf replied, less dismissive now. “You know about that?”</p><p>“Reynard told me,” I replied, simply. I was referring to the original plan that Nova had made with my father. I would be a figure head, and have only limited duties, mainly involving speeches and minding my own business, probably drunk, here in this mansion.</p><p>What my father didn’t know was that eventually, either John or Edward, my ‘guards’, would discover that I had ‘committed suicide’ and one or the other of them would replace me as mayor of Zystopia. </p><p>That all changed when Reynard discovered I was disinterested in drinking or minding my own business. I knew it was a risk at the time, but I really didn’t care. And then, some dumb ass shot me, so I was taken to meet the queen, and I impressed her. Impressed her a LOT, if I do say so myself. </p><p>“Of course, he would, wouldn’t he? Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? John and I never got the order to move forward,” he said. He didn’t finish the thought, but he didn't need to.</p><p>“To be clear. You would have obeyed, right?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” he replied, squaring his shoulders as his scent shifted toward some sort of determined resolution. </p><p>He probably thinks this is what I’ve been annoyed about these last several months. That this is the reason why I’ve been pushing him further and further away from important council matters, and letting the other councilors gain more and more favor. </p><p>“I don’t blame you,” I replied. For that.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” he replied. </p><p>“So. To other business?” I asked and he nodded. “I’ve received another request, from the Union, to open negotiations. What do you think?”</p><p>“Boss?” He asked. </p><p>“About negotiating. What do you think?”</p><p>“You’ve been clear, in previous meetings, about your feelings, and of course I agree,” he replied. “You don’t see any point negotiating with them because you don’t believe they’re willing to bargain in good faith.”</p><p>“That’s right. But you’re a council member, and you don’t agree with me, but, you’ve stopped voicing that disagreement or, for that matter, even playing devils' advocate when the subject comes up. Like you're avoiding the issue.”</p><p>Now his scent was edging back toward concern. “Boss? That is what you wanted, right? As your subordinate, I told you what I thought and you made a decision. Now, my job is to help you implement the plan. End of story.”</p><p>“I expect,” I said, leaning forward, and keeping eye contact, “the members of the Zystopian ruling council, including you, to be open, candid, and honest. I won’t punish you for disagreeing with me. I don’t punish the others and I won’t punish you for ‘speaking truth to power.’</p><p>“Tell me a viable alternative to my course of action. Tell me that there is some way that we can negotiate with the Union and NOT all end up as heads on sticks or skins on floors. Tell me,” I repeated. </p><p>I could feel myself getting angry, but I could not help it. This was not the way I wanted this meeting to go, but, we’re here now, so, I have to go forward, so I finished my thought out loud. “If you’re making a deal on the side.”</p><p>“Sir? I don’t understand-“ He started to say, and his scent changed to fear and then toward panic. </p><p>“We know, OK? The Council. We, I, have reports of your meetings, over the course of the last several months, with known Union spies.”</p><p>“I have never-“ He said. </p><p>“Stop that," I said, knowing that I didn't sound as calm as I would have liked. "I know, OK? Remember when I went to Nova last year, that first time, and you said there had been a meeting with the Union ambassador?”</p><p>“Yes, sir, I remember. There is nothing wrong with,” and here he paused, expecting me to interrupt again, but I let him finish. “With meeting their ambassador when you’re out of the city. We told you all about that.” Now his scent was coming back toward calm. </p><p>“No, actually, you did not. John told me all about the meeting between the three of you. And then he told me that you had another meeting-“</p><p>“That’s a lie!” The wolf shouted, and struck my desk with a fist. The noise was shockingly loud, and his scent and body language, which had been anger, now shifted toward fear. He knew what might happen next. </p><p>My door opened, and Finn walked in. “Did you want to see me, boss?” He asked, looking at Edward. Finn was not carrying a weapon, openly, but Edward shrank away from the smaller intruder. Finn was called, by many, my ‘hatchet mammal’, and it was not entirely a metaphor.</p><p>“No,” I replied, to Finn. “Not yet, but I think Edward and I are nearly done. Just give us another minute or two, OK?”</p><p>“Sure thing, Nick,” Finn replied, nodded to me, and walked back out the door, shutting it again. </p><p>“I’m. I’m. Sorry,” Edward stuttered. "The ambassador-"</p><p>“Yes, I know,” I replied. “But I need you to tell me everything you know about the Union mammals that you’ve been meeting. Who they are. Where they’re based. How you contact them.”</p><p>“I. I can’t,” he replied, eventually. He wouldn't meet my eyes.  </p><p>I sighed. “Very well.”</p><p>I hit another button on my desk. “Leftenant Hopps? Please come in.”</p><p>“Yes, Mr. Mayor,” she replied. Her tone was serious, but her tone betrayed a kind of amusement. “Ah, did you also want Finn to join us? He seems more eager than usual to participate.”</p><p>“Not this time. I’m sure you and I can handle any complications that may arise,” I said, and released the button. </p><p>Had this been a movie, Edward would have lunged at me, or pulled some sort of weapon out of his jacket, but, he didn’t. He just sort of sank into his chair, and refused to meet my eyes. </p><p>“What did they promise you?” I asked. I wondered what, if anything, he would say. Any mammal, when accused of a crime, will want other mammals to understand, so they’re likely to say interesting things at moments like this. They should, of course, remain silent, but we’re all trained, since birth to agree with authority figures, and not to work against them.  </p><p>“Safe passage. For me and my family,” he replied, very quietly. His muzzle was pointed toward the floor, and I could barely hear him, but I knew the recording devices would catch every word. “You can’t win. The city will fall, and then… Then, they’ll kill everyone. I had to make a choice.” </p><p>The door opened, and Hopps came in. She approached my desk, and then stopped, out of Edward’s reach. </p><p>“Mr. Mayor?” She asked. </p><p>“Leftenant Hopps. Please place Edward Harrison under arrest for treason. He has just now informed me that he was promised safe passage, by the Union, in exchanged for, I can only assume, information about council deliberations,” I said. We both saw Edward flinch slightly, and now I could smell his shame. </p><p>The rabbit looked at the wolf. “Sir? Please get out of your chair, turn around, get on your knees, and put your paws behind your back.” The wolf had had to kneel because the rabbit could not reach his wrists if he stood. </p><p>He did as he was told, Judy bound him, and then she escorted him out, leaving me alone in my office again. </p><p>Well, that sucked.  </p><p> </p><p>My door opened again, and Finn came back in. This time, he was carrying a knife, and seemed to be in a very good mood. </p><p>“Why so serious?” He asked me, quoting Batmammal. </p><p>“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Maybe because a mammal that I thought was loyal to Zystopia, and a friend of mine, turned out to be interested in saving his own skin instead? Someone I thought I could count on was actually. Not.”</p><p>“Ah, come on. You’ve known about this. About him. Since the army left. Far longer than I thought you would put up with it! I thought this would be a relief to you?” Finn asked. "I know you've talked to Judy about it. Honestly, I expected you to give me an execution order for the guy...." </p><p>“Yes, a relief that I didn't have to do that," I replied. "It is that, at least.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>See also several other chapters [in Volume 1] that mention the various news items discussed in this chapter. See Chapters 31, 33, and 40.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Nick and Judy and a Bridge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick is feeling the weight of his duties. In times like these, one needs friends to lean on.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is approximately Z+22 months or so.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, this is the area you want to use, I guess?” I asked the rabbit, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. I’m sure he could tell how I felt, but, if so, he kept it to himself. </p><p>I have not been sleeping much. I keep having this nightmare in which Dora accuses me of “letting us all die!” when I could have saved Nova. I don’t know if she’s right. Hopper has been very patient with me about it, so far, and he has informed me that a military expedition, now, would have, at best, a 10% chance of saving Nova because the Union Army would have to be, effectively, destroyed. And that same expedition, now, would have a 50% chance of us losing everything because our army would probably be, effectively, destroyed.  </p><p>My car had been following Major Hopper’s vehicles through town, and then we had all stopped here at this former dirigible field, now abandoned. I saw the soldiers starting to exit their vehicles, and so Frank, John, and I exited our vehicle as well. We were close enough to the trucks to hear some of the soldiers shouting, and of course Major Hopper approached our group as soon as he saw us getting out of our car. </p><p>This was, officially, a tour of possible staging areas for military rapid response teams, but I thought of it mainly as an excuse to get out of the office for a few hours. </p><p>“Yes, sir,” the Major replied, and gestured. “As you can see, we need some unoccupied land on which to set up. The mammals will need to have room to set up tents, park vehicles, and that sort of thing. Get dirty. The general idea is to get them used to ‘roughing it’ in a controlled environment like this, and then they’ll be more able to do the real thing if, or when, the Army has to operate outside of Zystopia.”</p><p> </p><p>“Boss, we need to talk about the interview with Bogo later-“</p><p>“Yes, that’s fine. Later? OK? I need some time,” I replied, and gestured, vaguely. </p><p>John took the hint, nodded, and went back to what he had been doing, which pretty much involved nodding and at least appearing to agree with whatever military jargon that James was spouting. I really am not sure what the difference is between an MBT and an APC, but I guess they tend to tear up asphalt? Anyway, Jack was there also, so I wasn’t too worried about the Council agreeing to anything impossible.  </p><p>I walked down to a dry creek bed to think, having motioned to Frank to stay back to give me some privacy. The ferret and I were out of sight of the others, at least for the moment, so I could pretend that I was alone. I knew there were drones also keeping an eye on us, from above, and Hopper had a couple of squads of soldiers, and some sort of tank, nearby.</p><p>I saw a lawn chair and, next to it, some sort of up ended bucket, clearly used as a table in the past, near the bridge, on this side, in the creek bed. Further on, I could see that the area under the bridge was in shadow, protected from the sun, and so I walked toward it. Seeing an old ink pen, or possibly some sort of novelty device on the ground, I picked it up. </p><p>Someone may have lived here. Sat in the chair. Maybe slept or rested under the bridge, in the shade? I don’t know what he, or she, had been doing with this pen, however. There was nothing to write on anywhere nearby. A spray can, for graffiti, I could understand, but this pen had me puzzled.</p><p>I looked up, and noticed Leftenant Hopps up on the road that went over the bridge. She had just gotten out of her vehicle, some sort of truck, when she saw me. </p><p>“Nick,” she said, and then she came down to join me. </p><p>“I need to speak to you,” she added, when she was close enough.</p><p>“Leftenant Hopps,” I replied, and turned back toward the shaded area. I didn’t especially appreciate this interruption of my thoughts, when everyone else clearly understood I wanted to be alone just now. </p><p>“What interesting thing do you have to say?” I asked, and then went under the bridge, breaking eye contact with her, without waiting for an answer. Frank kept his distance, behind me, and didn’t interrupt. I was, clearly, in no danger, and he knew I would shout if I wanted his assistance. </p><p>He, and the mammals like him, are, in many ways, what I have instead of friends now that I’m the supreme muckity muck. It beats being in jail, of course, and I remind myself of that nearly every day. There are times, like now, that I start feeling worse than usual about the whole thing.  </p><p>Judy climbed down the bank, and I added, “I thought we weren’t going to do that first name thing?” I realized I sounded bitter after I said it. “Don’t you prefer to keep things professional?”</p><p>“That was a stupid thing for me to say, OK? I’m sorry. I was still mad at you for… for the way prey like me had been treated. And then, you transferred me back to being a leftenant, like I wanted, even though you didn’t think it would be good for city and you didn’t have a good replacement. And I wasn’t even all that grateful to you,” she said, when she was closer to me. </p><p>She smelled like she had showered recently, which was understandable. Prey mammals, in today’s Zystopia, have learned to expect predators like me to notice that sort of thing. </p><p>I grimaced, then, remembering how badly Delgato had turned out. I turned back toward her, and she continued, “and you didn’t tell me how to do my job as police chief. You didn’t even interfere when I arrested your father. You. You trusted me when I told you Edward was a traitor.”</p><p>She paused, and I wondered what the seven hells she was going on about? </p><p>“Arresting Francis was your job,” I replied. “Of course I’m not going to tell you how to do it. I’m doing my job, as I expect everyone to do.” Why must she expect things to be so complicated? </p><p>“Yes, I understand, now, how you cope with things. How important it is, for you, to believe that you’re a good mammal, because you do good things,” she said, and I shrugged. She’s not wrong. </p><p>“I just wanted to say I was sorry for ignoring, or rebuffing, your every attempt at friendship. I’ll understand if you’re not interested, but I’d like you to give me another chance. I was a. I was. I was just a dumb bunny,” she concluded, sounding and smelling closer to miserable than I had yet heard from her. Even that time in the jail, she was more…. Well, confused, I guess. Probably in denial.  </p><p>Now, she wasn’t crying, but I could smell her shame and despair and see her ears draped down her back. She was not meeting my eyes, but just standing there, a few feet away from me, and waiting for my reply. </p><p>“So, that’s it. Thanks,” she said, after a few moments. She started to turn away. </p><p>“I’ll have to think about it. Your words hurt me, here,” I replied, gesturing to my heart, and then my head. “But I understand, here, why you did it. You had to accept change to your entire way of life. It’s hard to do. Not every mammal can. Without, you know, some time to think about it.</p><p>“Friends?” I asked, and put out a paw for her to shake. </p><p>“Friends,” she replied, shaking my paw. </p><p>I could smell her relief and, just a touch of satisfaction, so I added, “Carrots.”</p><p>Now the scent was annoyance. “Don’t call me-“</p><p>I grinned at her and she shook her head. “Thanks, Slick.”</p><p>“Right,” I said, searching for something less personal to talk about. “Let’s see if Hopper and Savage are done talking about the great outdoors, here inside the city walls.”</p><p>“That’s what this field trip is about?” She asked. I guess she really had come out here just to talk to me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Judy and Nick relationship [usually sexual, or “Wildehopps”] is the center of nearly every Zootopia fanfiction. Typically, they end up in bed together, and some authors do an excellent job of explanation and justification. I had originally planned to till that same field, but then I realized that a slightly different relationship would be more interesting, and more appropriate, in this setting, if I could figure out how to make it grow and flourish correctly, over time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Judy and Her Parents</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Focusing again on the attitudes of some of the common mammals. Nick Wilde is very popular with the City's predator species, but not as popular with all members of the prey species outside Zystopia.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How’s life in the big city for our little meter maid?” Bonnie asked. That had been their little joke, a decade before, when Judy first came to Zystopia. ‘Safest job on the force’, but Judy was not interested in safe. She wanted to be noticed, and she had been.  </p><p>Now, she sighed, watching her parents’ image on the video phone. “Well, you know. Things are changing.”</p><p>Her mother nodded, and Judy continued. “Refugees have started to arrive. Mainly from the nearer Novan cities. I think most of the others, in the path of the Union Army, went to Nova, seeking the familiar. They thought their army would protect them.”</p><p>“But it won’t?” Bonnie Hopps asked. “We heard on the news-“</p><p>“Yeah,” Judy said, nodding. “There never were enough Novan soldiers, and they kept re-engaging the Union Army, and inflicting a little damage, and then running away, just in time. They were bound to get unlucky. Which they did.”</p><p>Judy didn’t want to talk about it. Her position, and contacts, meant that she knew far more than what the news outlets were allowed to report. Most of that news was bad, and of course it could not be suppressed, so the council had decided to release it slowly. They hoped this would cause less disruption and panic.  </p><p>“What’s new with you? Raising food for the Army and the refugees must be very profitable just now, and you’re under our weather control,” Judy observed. “You can grow crops year round.”</p><p>She knew her parents, in Bunnyborough, didn’t especially like the predators in charge of neighboring Zystopia right now, but they were stuck with the situation. Jack Savage was the president of Bunnyborough, and he had thrown his lot in with Nick Wilde.  </p><p>Nobody bothered to think about what would happen to Bunnyborough if Zystopia lost. The Union would remember, and they had decreed that anyone that helped the biters became race traitors, and the penalty for that could only be death. For the Hopps, the solution involved siding with the Zystopian devil nearby, and not thinking about the Union devil further away. </p><p>“Zystopia has been hiring as many rabbits as they can to build additional housing, roads, and dig sanitation for the refugees. But everyone hopes the Novans will be able to go home eventually,” Bonnie said. She didn’t add that how unlikely that was, at least in the near term.</p><p>“So,” Bonnie said, trying to lighten the somber mood. “How are things with what’s his name? That rabbit you like? Did you say he worked for the mayor also?”</p><p>“He has a name,” Judy replied. She had told her parents that Finn was a trouble shooter, but had implied that it was a metaphor. She had not told them Finn was a fox. </p><p>“Which is?” Bonnie asked. </p><p>“Finn. He’s OK. He’s not too happy about the defensive stance that our Army has adopted, at least for the time being.”</p><p>“He’s not going to be a soldier, is he?” Her mother asked. </p><p>Bonny’s first husband, now deceased, had been in the Army. Her new husband, Stu, had also been a soldier, but those days were long over, of course, and fighting was not something about which most rabbits liked to talk. Stu knew that Judy understood that sort of thing, even though he hadn’t actually told her until she had survived her first gun fight. He had definitely not wanted to encourage her to try to follow in his footsteps, and so he had delayed telling her about what he used to do. He didn't know how many mammals Judy had had to kill. </p><p>“No, not like dad. Like I said, he’s a fixer, and the mayor mostly has him talking to various mammals,” Judy replied. “He’s been ensuring that civilian contracts with the government are handled properly. Nobody wants any price gouging or other foolishness.” </p><p>The older Hopps nodded, and then changed the subject. </p><p>“Oh, that reminds me. You remember Gideon Grey?” Her mother asked. </p><p>“Yeah. He wanted to be a baker, right?” Judy replied. Once they had been enemies, but that had been long ago when they were both younger. Gideon had apologized to Judy a decade ago when they ran into each other during one of her visits home.  </p><p>“Well, he’s got a job in the City, at one of the factories. Not sure what he’s doing. Like nearly everyone else, something for the war, probably,” Bonnie said. “I heard there is a great deal of unrest because of all the new mammals arriving and the way males are being forced to work for, or in, the army and more females than ever before are employed manufacturing weapons.” </p><p>“Yes, I think he’s working in a factory,” Judy replied, and shrugged. She knew what he was doing, but only because she was a police leftenant, and friends with various mammals close to, and including, the mayor. Judy had known that out of shape Gideon would make a poor soldier, and so she had gotten him a job making ammunition. </p><p>“I’m sure he’s doing fine, but I can check on him if you like?” Judy asked. </p><p>“Would you mind? I don’t want you getting in trouble.”</p><p>“Oh, I won’t get in trouble for something like THAT,” she replied. 'Or at least as long as no one finds out,' she added to herself. </p><p>“Judy? Your father wants to talk to you,” Bonnie said, and passed the phone before her daughter could say anything. </p><p>Judy loved her father, but, talking to him could be very trying. He was not, to put it mildly, very interested in watching his language, and not very good at changing his mind about the way predators and prey should interact.</p><p>“Judy the dude! How are you?” Her father asked. </p><p>“I’m fine,“ Judy said, then tried to make an excuse to get off the phone. “I’m really tired-“</p><p>“Nonsense. Your mother didn’t tire you out, I’m sure. I heard what you females were talking about. Now, I want to make sure you know how a male feels.”</p><p>“Dad-“ Judy tried again, and was ignored. </p><p>“Remember that females aren’t going to be comfortable working out side the home. It’s not natural.”</p><p>“I know that, but you know what I do, right?” Judy asked. It was an old argument, and one that Judy really didn’t want to keeping talking about. </p><p>“You’re special. Always have been, and you’re one of my children, so you can do anything,” her father said. “Most other females can’t do what men do, and that’s why the gods decreed that females should stay at home and raise the children.”</p><p>Judy and her father knew why any society’s young, and therefore fertile, females would not be risked in battle. They had to be safe so they could carry, and then give birth to, children. However, those females could be impregnated by males that then didn’t need to be present during the carrying or birth of those children. Therefore those males were free to take on dangerous, but critically important, tasks like protecting that society. Unlike her father, Judy didn’t think this made the opinions of females less important, but had eventually realized that her father was not interested in changing his mind about it. </p><p>Judy, who had a job very much like that of a soldier, found his attitude very frustrating. But Stu Hopps’ views of gender roles wasn’t the reason Judy didn’t want to talk to him this evening. </p><p>“You know that you can put a scorpion in a suit, but it’ll still sting you if it gets half a chance. Biters are the same way,” Stu said, and Judy grimaced. "It's biology."</p><p>“Dad, you know that sort of thing is considered to be hate speech, not science, and it's not protected by our new constitution’s guarantees of freedom of expression,” Judy said, knowing, even as she said it, that her father wouldn’t listen to all the reasoning anyway. “And for the love of carrots, please don’t use that word where any predator might hear.” </p><p>“Those biters say it’s bad,” he replied and Judy winced. “That doesn’t mean it's bad, or that I can’t say it.” </p><p>Judy didn’t use the ‘b word’ herself, but she knew many prey mammals that did, at least in private. Because of her rank, and who she knew, she might be able to say it in public, but she wasn’t sure what would happen. Any mammal, doing any sort of government job, would be warned and then required to attend sensitivity training the first time. It was an automatic job termination after that.  </p><p>Any prey mammals using that word were also likely to be fined, the first time they were caught. Community service was required the second time, and then jail if the word continued to be used. Judy had been to jail, and she didn’t want her father arrested. </p><p>The Hopps Farm, of course, had government contracts, and so there were going to be government inspectors. Finn might even get involved. </p><p>“Dad, I really do have to go,” she said, and her father huffed, but passed the phone to Bonnie. </p><p>“Goodnight, dear. We love you.”</p><p>“I love you, too,” Judy replied. “Both of you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Mayor and the Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick is still trying to get Dora to move in with him, and she's still not going to do it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is probably about Z+23 months or so. We're about caught up with the first few chapters.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dora and I were video chatting again, and I had not smelled her scent, or held her body, in several months. I had expected her to simply move her government to Zystopia when it became clear that the Confederation Army would be unable to stop the Union Army, and I had said so, but now we were arguing about it. </p><p>“You’re being unreasonable,” I said. I know it’s silly, but I was trying to make useful observations. And I know that one isn’t very useful. I knew better than to say anything about her being too emotional. </p><p>“Have a care how you address me. I am Queen Skylar III, reigning monarch of-“</p><p>“No,” I replied, far too soon, and sounding far too annoyed. “You are not Skylar. You can’t always be Skylar.</p><p>“Why can’t you see reason?” I asked, emphasizing the second word. Of course I knew it was a dumb thing to say as soon as I said it, but I didn’t know what else to do. </p><p>“Oh? And you think your way is the only way? That I need a strong male like you to protect me?” She asked, apparently amused. </p><p>I started to reply, stopped, and counted to 10, as she waited. Then I tried again.  </p><p>“Your people-“</p><p>“Yes. My people, here in Nova. Not yours. I know what they need, and I know that abandoning them, now that the war is not going as well as I would like, is a very selfish thing to do,” she replied. Now her voice was very even, and controlled. Her eyes didn’t blink, and I wondered, briefly, if I was actually talking to Dora? But I was talking to the vixen that sometimes called herself Dora. Sometimes, she called herself Skylar III. </p><p>“Refugees are on their way here, now. Some of your people will be here,” I pointed out. Probably all the survivors, I thought, but did not add. The Union had been very clear about their intentions. </p><p>“Yes, but most of them are here,” she replied. In Nova. </p><p>“But you. You can’t,” I started to say, and then I wasn’t sure how to continue. How can I tell her that I don’t want her to die? She must know, right?</p><p>“Yes, Nick? I can’t what?” The queen replied. </p><p>“I don’t want. I’m,” I tried again. And then, I just said it. “You can’t die. I need you. I love you.”</p><p>She said nothing for several seconds, and I waited to see which would reply. Dora or Skylar? And then she said, “I know.</p><p>“But we are not two ordinary mammals. We have responsibilities. We can’t let our personal feelings get in the way of our duties,” Skylar said. </p><p>I stared at the screen, in disbelief. “Personal responsibilities? Like living, you mean? That sort of thing?”</p><p>“I don’t expect you to understand. You were not born to this. I was. My sister and I were trained, every day, reminded to put the dynasty, the nation, first. I will not surrender, and I will not run,” she said. “You don’t understand because you were not even given the most basic of training before you assumed leadership.”</p><p>“Oh, I understand! Not being trained, not being raised to be the king, makes me more likely to see reason. More likely to know what my people think,” I replied. “Because I’m one of them.”</p><p>“Your people would want you to turn tail and run?” She replied, sounding amused again. “If you were in my place?”</p><p>“For the thousandth time, it’s not ‘turning tail’ or running. You’re just relocating. Some of your people are here, in Zystopia, already, more are coming. You would simply be joining them,” I replied. “I thought that was the plan all along?“</p><p>“The plan?” Skylar replied. Now she seemed confused, with her ears canted odd, head cocked to the side, and leaning more toward the camera pickup.</p><p>“Yes, you know? My, that is, the Zystopian, soldiers would be kept out of the main fighting so that we would be available if something like this happened. We’re the fallback,” I replied. “The insurance plan.”</p><p>“The ‘fallback’,” she replied, and actually used her paws to make air quotes. It reminded me of my father, and this did not help my mood. </p><p>“No. Your soldiers were not used because Marshal Reynard didn’t think they would be much help. They are not fully trained, and not integrated into the Confederation Army.”</p><p>“What?” I replied, stupidly. “But-“</p><p>“But what? You thought he liked you? No. He saved you because I told him to,” Skylar replied. “He would not have hesitated to shoot you if I told him to.”</p><p>“I. I know that, some of that,“ I replied, and then saw her lean back, away from the camera, waiting for me to work it out. </p><p>She’s manipulating me? Trying to get an angry reaction. But why?</p><p>“I need to re-assure my citizens here that everything is under control,” she continued our conversation from before the Reynard bombshell. “And let them know that we will continue to fight.” </p><p>I did not reply. I had no idea what to say. </p><p>“We grow weary of this, and would speak again later,” she said. </p><p>“Wait!” I said. “There must be something. Something I can do to change your mind?”</p><p>I knew she would not change her mind, and if she wanted to pretend she wasn’t in personal danger, I suppose I should also pretend. On the other paw, I’m not in danger, myself. The Union Army is not a few days’ march from Zystopia. Even if it was, I am fairly confident that Hopper’s mammals could keep them out of the city. Not 100%, of course, but my confidence is increasing now that Glover’s ideas are proving to be practical.</p><p>“You’ve done all you can. Zystopia is doing all it can,” she said, possibly to make me feel better about the little we were doing, now that I had accepted her decision. </p><p>Our army is not yet ready. The new weapons, especially the portable shields, the new ammunition, and the missiles, are not in full production, and we have had only the briefest time to train the soldiers. For the hundredth time, I wonder if Glover’s constant delays were planned? Maybe he wanted Nova to fall?</p><p>“You’re taking the refugees. Giving them a place to go. That’s enough,” Dora said. “And now, I must go. I need to. To.”</p><p>I could see the mask slipping, but only for a moment. </p><p>“And know that Dora loves you, Nick, very much,” her image said, and then nodded, just before the screen went blank. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!” I shouted, jumped up, spun, and slashed the wall, gouging long lines with my claws through the plaster next to the window. </p><p>Finn stuck his head in. “Boss?”</p><p>“It’s nothing,” I said, trying not to look at him, and trying to ignore the obvious gouges in the wall. And the curtain still wrapped around my right paw. And my upended chair. </p><p>“Probably with a female, eh?”</p><p>“How did you guess?” I asked, shaking my paw. </p><p>Finally, I just stepped on one end of the, former, curtain and yanked my paw out of the tangle.  </p><p>“Only mammal that can make me that mad is Judy,” Finn replied, and then shrugged, turned around, and started to leave. </p><p>“Finn? How well did you know Reynard?” I asked. </p><p>“Not well. Never killed any mammals for him, if that’s what you’re wondering. I know some guys that knew him, so I know of him, I suppose,” he replied. “Not much of a drinker.”</p><p>“Skylar… Dora, whatever,” I said, trying to figure out how to explain that somewhat odd situation. </p><p>“Yeah? Your girlfriend, right?” Finn replied. Clearly, he doesn’t care what she calls herself. They’ve met, of course, and talked briefly, so Finn knows exactly who she is. </p><p>“She said that Reynard had a very low opinion of our Army, and that’s why Zystopian troops weren’t involved in the defense of Nova, with the rest of the Confederation soldiers,” I said. "I didn't realize he felt that way about us."</p><p>“Hmmm. Nope,” Finn replied, very matter of fact. “We’re the fall back. The place for the refugees. Also, the most logical place for the Novan government in exile to relocate. Everyone knows that, and I can guarantee that’s what Reynard was thinking when he made his plans.”</p><p>“She told me Reynard wasn’t thinking that,” I replied. “That he kept us out of it because our soldiers would only slow his more experienced mammals down. That we would be in the way.” </p><p>“What she said? Did it make you mad?” He asked, and I nodded. </p><p>“Make you think about Reynard instead of Dora?” He asked, his scent moving toward a kind of disinterest. </p><p>“Yeah,” I replied, thinking about the exact way she had said it.  </p><p>“So, you were arguing, and she says something like that, and then, you stopped disagreeing with her about whatever else it was you were fighting about?” Finn asked. </p><p>“Yeah,” I replied, again. </p><p>“I do it with Judy sometimes, or she does it to me. Mostly when she wants me to leave her alone for awhile, or I want her to stop trying to civilize me,” Finn replied. "To stop telling me to watch my mouth."</p><p>“I think she’s getting some crap from her parents. Not sure what’s going on there, exactly,” he continued. </p><p>“Want me to look into it? Officially or unofficially?” I asked. </p><p>“Nah. I solve my own problems,” he replied, before turning toward the door again. “But. Thanks, I guess.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Z+2 Years:</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As predicted in Volume 1, the city of Nova has come under siege by the Union Army.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Comrade Army Commander, the Novan ambassador is ready to see you,” the young elephant announced, in the doorway to the army commander’s temporary office. It was a sunny room on the ground floor of a conveniently located mansion. </p><p>“Who is it?” The buffalo replied, without looking up. He was currently busy pretending to read a report on recent maintenance activities. ‘Like I should care about such things. That’s what I have subordinates for,’ he thought, not for the first time.  </p><p>“He said he’s a member of the queen’s privy council,” the aide replied. “He’s a wolf, of course.”</p><p>“Very good. You may go,” the bull buffalo replied, and waved a hoof. The elephant bowed and disappeared down the hallway.</p><p>The house was not far west of the City of Nova, and it had been owned by some Novan family or other, but the army commander didn’t know, or care, who they were or who they had been. He only cared that they had been large mammals and so he didn’t have to crouch down to fit through doorways. His staff, of course, had selected the house on that, and one other, qualification. </p><p>They also had a large, shaded, work area out back, and this is where army commander went now.</p><p> </p><p>Private William Capra, 'Billy' to his friends and squad mates, stood at attention near that work area, expecting to die. He didn’t know, or care, about what the army commander did or did not want. He was muzzle to muzzle with his platoon sergeant, and the other members of Capra’s squad were lined up at attention nearby. </p><p>“...and did I ask you what you THOUGHT, private?” The zebra sergeant continued, still shouting at the goat. </p><p>Private Capra was too new to fully understand what more experienced soldiers tended to take for granted. Shouting was what sergeants did, possibly even when talking to each other, and therefore anyone below that rank should just wait out the storm and not take the verbal abuse very seriously. On the other hoof, an officer had suggested, just ten minutes ago, that maybe prisoners didn’t need to be beaten quite as enthusiastically as Capra had been doing. Capra was also too new to understand why so many of his squad mates had pretended not to hear that suggestion, and too recently a graduate of basic training to realize that low level officers, in the Union Army anyway, didn’t actually do much.  </p><p>The private had then informed his sergeant what the lieutenant had said and added that he thought maybe torturing the prisoner wasn’t something he should be doing. The sergeant, of course, reacted as everyone else expected. </p><p>“If I tell you to kick, or shoot, or headbutt, or punch, a mammal, or a rock or a tank or anything else, and it’s not wearing our colors, then you obey instantly,” he shouted, counting on his fingers. “This should not be hard to understand even for a pred lover like you!”  </p><p>The zebra paused, and turned slightly away from the goat. The goat then breathed what he thought was a silent sigh of relief, but not quietly enough. His sergeant heard him anyway, and punched him full force in the gut, folding the private's body over the sergeant's hoof. The hoof was then pulled back, the goat collapsed, and the sergeant addressed the other members of Capra’s squad. “Anybody else got any thoughts?”</p><p>“No sergeant!” All the standing soldiers shouted, more or less in unison. On the ground, Capra was too busy trying to breath to participate. The prisoner, a wolf, barely glanced at them. </p><p> </p><p>“Ronin,” the bull greeted the wolf. “You’ve looked better.”</p><p>The wolf was indeed on the worse side. His once fine clothes had been nearly shredded, he had been beaten by a goat very recently, and he was currently chained to a post. The army commander barely noticed that there was a squad of Union soldiers nearby getting some training. He knew he had many soldiers, and he cared about these just as much as the rest, which was not much.   </p><p>“You promised me safe conduct!” The wolf shouted at the buffalo, and the nearby soldiers paused briefly, but then went back to what they had been doing. </p><p>“Did I? You’re still alive. So, that’s safe enough, right? Any landing you can walk away from is a good one, yes?” The army commander observed, philosophically. His ears twitched, and he smiled at the, former, ambassador from Nova. </p><p>The wolf glared and tried to spit, but the buffalo barely noticed the feeble attempt at resistance. The bull was standing far enough away that nothing hit him. This was not, as they say, his first rodeo, or his first time doing something like this to a biter. As far as biters went, wolves weren't particularly good or bad. Biters had sharp teeth, and the buffalo didn't approve of that sort of thing on general principle.  </p><p>“So, who’s left? I know that many of your citizens have fled. Your queen, apparently, has not?" The buffalo asked.</p><p>“You’re never get her. And you’ll never get anything out of me,” the wolf said. He set his jaw, and tried to broadcast a sense of determination. </p><p>“We’ll see who we get,” the bull interrupted. “We’ve already got you and gotten a great deal out of you, after all. Mostly blood, but soon, information. I expect you’ll be singing like a canary within another hour or so.” </p><p>Privately, the army commander admitted that he wouldn’t be surprised if the queen did get away. She had many body doubles, after all. It wouldn’t matter, of course. A queen with no city, and no army, would be powerless and irrelevant. </p><p>Refugees had fled to Zystopia! The bull snorted. ‘The citizens will surrender when realize my army can't be stopped. When we get close enough, we'll open fire on it, and they'll open the gates’ he thought. ‘Walls will delay our entry into the city, not prevent it.’</p><p>He very carefully did not think about the amount of time his army had already spent fighting the Confederation Army, and then trying to convince their cities to surrender. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, of rounds had already been fired and already landed in the city. High explosive. Air burst shrapnel. Smoke. Riot gas. Armor piercings rounds to kill those hiding below ground. Only mine scattering, or ‘delayed action improved conventional munitions,’ and nerve gas shells, had not been used, but they were available. Nerve gas and mines tended to be persistent, and might kill his own mammals later. </p><p>If the city did not surrender in the next day or two, the foot soldiers would have to be sent in. That meant, of course, that there would be no City of Nova within a week or so, but the army would be stuck here for the same length of time while the soldiers were rounded back up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Army Commander here, in the Union Army, has a rank very similar to Field Marshal in the Confederation Army. Sergeants are the same level in both armies.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. The Mayor and the Squirrel again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick gets a tour of a weapons lab, and talks to some very knowledgeable squirrels.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Now, we're caught up with chapter 1. This chapter takes place later that day</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With the council meeting ended, it was time to do the next thing, which was a muzzle to muzzle meeting with Dr. Glover. Well, actually, it was lunch, and a car ride, and THEN a meeting with Glover, but James, the butler, not the soldier, gave me a fish sandwich to eat in the car, so I multitasked. </p><p>Again, Frank and I met him, Dr. Glover, at his facility, but this time, he didn’t make us wait, or not very long. He met us in the lobby of the administration building and we went immediately to his office on the second floor. </p><p>It was the same office again, but more lived in now. Still not large, but now the shelves are practically stuffed with books about art, culture, geography, and, apparently, conspiracy theories. On the walls, there are old and new pictures of the good doctor with various celebrities. There is even an old one with me, though I don’t remember the occasion. He doesn’t mention it, so maybe he’s forgotten.   </p><p>He gestured, I sat down, and then he went and sat behind his desk as in the past. Frank stood against the wall, like last time. Refreshment was not offered, but that may have been because he forgot about it. I hope that’s why, anyway, because I don’t actually enjoy having to keep score when that sort of thing is going on. </p><p>“I’ve read your emails, of course, and seen the hand delivered reports,” I began. The Union might be able to read our emails, and so anything important, from this facility, comes by trusted messengers. “I admit to being very impressed.” </p><p>He smiled, and I could smell a kind of relief from him. No doubt, he probably expected me to be in a less charitable mood after his little faux pas at the meeting this morning. </p><p>“Thank you,” he replied, and then leaned forward and spread his arms. “I’m always glad to help my fellow citizens.”</p><p>I nodded, and didn’t point out that our definitions of ‘always’ might differ. However, I’m glad he’s at least attempting to look like he’s being more civic minded now. </p><p>“Tell me, doctor. How do you think of this stuff? Or how did you, I guess, because your ideas always seem to work. Like they’ve already been proven.” I knew he had a dozen projects going at the same time, but unlike the other two weapons labs we have, this one has only successes, as if he’s already seen all of this in operation and knows exactly what will, and what will not, work. </p><p>“Just lucky, I guess,” he replied, and leaned back with his arms crossed. </p><p>“Oh, no need to be modest. Yours is a brilliant mind, clearly,” I observed, hoping to loosen his tongue with flattery. </p><p>“I would rather not go into where my ideas came from. Ah, come from,” he replied, without meeting my eyes. His scent only confirmed his discomfort.  </p><p>“Oh? Don’t worry. I won’t cast you aside as soon as you’re no longer valuable,” I said. “That’s the sort of thing Bellweather might have done, while she was in charge, and I don’t like to think I’m becoming like her.”</p><p>I have already found out where he was when he learned how to do what he’s doing, but I have no intention of getting rid of the good doctor. As long as he cooperates, of course, and he doesn’t stray too far into ‘squirrels are inherently the superior race’ territory. In fact, I feel like his inventions have earned him the right to be a bigot. Just, not too much of one. </p><p>“I know you have other labs,” he pointed out, as he leaned forward again. Clearly, he was happy to switch to this, more familiar, topic. He must have expected to discuss this. “But I also know those labs don’t have my success rates and you’re. Excuse me, we’re, between a rock and a hard place, so success rates matter more now than they might otherwise.”</p><p>“I suppose you’re right,” I replied, and ignored the way Frank’s scent had begun to shift. I had asked him not to intervene, this time, unless Glover attacked me physically. “Show me what you have.”</p><p>He nodded. We went out of his office, down the stairs, and then across the compound to the building with the machine shops. </p><p>There, I could see many improvements since the first time I was here, nearly two years ago. There were overhead tracks for workers to move about without fear of injury from moving equipment. There were clear floor markings for each part of each process. There were several large mammals for carrying equipment, none of whom had participated in the riots earlier this year. </p><p>“Where would you like to start?” He asked. I could see, looking around, that his personnel were all busy. “Maybe the death ray that you wanted?”</p><p>“I admit that more mature consideration on my part has resulted in a greater interest in such a device,” I replied, in politician speak. I didn’t remind the good doctor that I didn’t actually say I wanted a death ray, but rather that I had expected him to be able to build one. Apparently, he took it as a challenge, and, quite possibly, rose to the occasion. I’ll have to remember that.  </p><p>The squirrel caught the eye of an assistant, who hurried over. “Tell Sammual that we’ll be viewing his section, first,” he said. The assistant nodded, and hurried back the way he had come. </p><p>We followed, somewhat more slowly, and I soon found myself looking down on half a dozen mammals preparing to demonstrate what looked very much like a heavy machine gun, or possibly, a sprayer for herbicide. There was a metal tube, held in someone’s paws, but there was no obvious hole in what had to be the business end of the backpack mounted rig. </p><p>One of the mammals in this group was a squirrel, and he seemed to be in charge. That then, would be Sammual. </p><p>“Sam? Please explain to the Mayor what you have here,” Dr. Glover said. </p><p>I wondered if Glover knew how it worked? He was acting like he didn’t.  </p><p>“Mr. Mayor, this,” and the other squirrel gestured to another mammal, this one the wolf who was actually wearing the rig. “Is something we’re calling the particle wave projector, or PWP. Currently, there is no power source, and so it’s completely safe.”</p><p>The wolf was standing near a table, under us, turning this way and that so we might better examine the PWP. The squirrel stood on that table with a pointer, which moved as he talked. The power source would be, as expected, on the back, and there was an obvious slot for the missing battery, which would probably be just small enough that the wolf operator would be able to install it alone, and, possibly, carry at least one spare. </p><p>“Power line, projection apparatus….” The squirrel below us continued talking and gesturing at different things. It did look very impressive. </p><p>“Range?” I asked. “Effect?”</p><p>“Ah, yes. Range is 100 meters for what we think of as full effect. Closer, and the effect is faster, but, at 100, you can boil a gallon of water in about 10 seconds,” Sammual pointed out. “With this sized rig. We have a laser pointer attached, but you don’t need it when you’re aiming at, well, a bucket of water. Because you can see steam.”</p><p>I tried not to think about the effect on the Union soldiers or how long it might take for them to stop making us use it. I hoped it would be quick. </p><p>“We’ve been experimenting with using these in conjunction with our shields, and-“</p><p>“Have you considered what to do if the enemy were to get their paws on one of these?” I interrupted. He didn’t seem to mind, being one of those mammals that likes questions.  </p><p>“First, they’re coded for the DNA of the user. This one,” the squirrel gestured, “can only be operated by me or a member of my team.</p><p>”Second, microwave technology is not new. It’s the portable power sources that are new, and if they got one of these rigs, then they would get only one, or maybe two power units.” </p><p>“Very good,” I said to Dr. Glover. “How many of these guns do we have?”</p><p>“Projectors,” he replied. “We call them projectors. As you can see, they don’t throw a bullet. </p><p>“And there are not many yet, only this prototype and some others of various sizes, but Zystopian factories can start mass producing these as soon as you give the word. It took us a few days to build this one, but I’m sure the next units can be made much faster.”</p><p>“What else do you have?” I asked.  </p><p>He had power packs with hundreds of thousands of volts of potential energy that he had made using what he called his ‘storm collectors.’ He had shield emitters that were, just barely, mobile, and powered by those same battery like energy storage units. New, very small, and easily mass produced smart missiles. Improved body armor for our soldiers. Articulated rigs such that any mammal, from mouse to squirrel sized, could perform the same functions as any larger mammal, either wolf sized or greater. </p><p>All of it battery powered and the good doctor had thousands of batteries. All full, apparently, but he was not exactly eager to explain exactly how that was accomplished, or where, exactly, the collectors were located. They are, of course, in the great ocean somewhere.   </p><p>Yes, I could see that the good doctor, and at least one of his assistants, had learned much from their travels. He was, after all, not a professor of engineering or physics. He was a sociologist, and all the predator assistants here were mechanics and machinists, not engineers. I plan to get some of the engineers from Nova involved soon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, I'm still building the backstory about what's going to happen when the Union army tries to invade Zystopia. Also, I'm doing some background about the history of this society. Dr. Glover has traveled extensively and visited one of the other races on this world.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. The Fate of Nova</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Union Army is preparing to formally conquer Nova, prior to then marching south south west to Zystopia. Nick Wilde is in Zystopia, and has a conversation with Judy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Z+25 months</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Be sure my army is ready to move as soon as I give the word!” The buffalo said to one of his rhino aides. “And get that bitch on the phone, but make sure the female I’m talking to is in the city.”</p><p>“At once, sir,” the aide replied, not bothering to discuss how that would be done. The city was surrounded, all satellite uplink communication had been destroyed, and radio was being jammed locally, so communication would be accomplished by laser. </p><p>The army commander was not, to put it mildly, interested in these details. He was interested in making sure he got what he wanted, so he stared at a screen indicated by the rhino until an image of an artic vixen materialized. She looked almost exactly the same as all the other times he had seen her image, but now, more tired. </p><p>“Your majesty,” the buffalo greeted. He, and his aides, were in a command vehicle located west of the City of Nova. They could not actually see the city from this location, but they didn't need to see it. </p><p>“General,” the vixen replied. "I wish to-"</p><p>“Your excellency,” the buffalo replied, interrupting her. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“My title. It’s ‘your excellency’ because I’m an army commander, and you’re just a queen of a soon to be conquered city. Let’s try to keep this conversation productive and civilized, OK?” The buffalo said, with evident good cheer. </p><p>“Civilized?” The vixen replied. Her ears went back and she flinched slightly away from the camera as well. She addressed the buffalo with a level muzzle. “You murdered my ambassador. Your daily broadcasts tell us what you’re going to do-”</p><p>“No, you got it all wrong. I didn’t kill Ronin. He came, we talked, and then he left,” the buffalo replied from his command post. The rhino blinked, but made no other reaction. He wasn’t on camera anyway, so it didn’t matter, really. The general decided not to punish him. </p><p>“Tell you what. Agree to surrender, yourself, to me, now, and I’ll let your people live,” the buffalo said. This time, the rhino didn’t react when his boss lied so obviously.  </p><p>“I have your word, your excellency?” The vixen replied, after a moment. </p><p>“Cross my heart,” the buffalo replied. </p><p>“I agree,” the fox replied. “Now what happens?”</p><p>“Just wait. I’ll send some of my mammals to see you,” the big buffalo said. </p><p> </p><p>A short while later, around noon local time, and several hundred miles away, I was in Zystopia listening to Colonel Hopper’s report. </p><p>“The Confederation is, in summary, about done. The Union Army will be entering the city of Nova anytime now,” the rabbit said. </p><p>“Sir?” One of Hopper’s rabbits said, looking mostly at him and Savage, but also at me. “You wanted me to-“</p><p>Savage waved and replied, “Yes. Thank you.”</p><p>The aide left and then Savage turned his chair toward me, “the queen of Nova is giving the final broadcast.”</p><p>We found the right channel for the speech, activated the appropriate video receiver, and then settled in to watch and listen. I knew what was probably going to happen, but I had not been sure, and so I had given my council members only the most general information.  I need not have worried. They all knew. </p><p>“Mammals of the Confederation, citizens of Nova, and interested parties,” the white furred monarch began. The camera was showing her and several others, all herbivores, all of them in the blue uniforms of the Union Army. Their army commander was not present, but they looked like they were making themselves at home. One of them was drinking from an expensive cup of some sort.  </p><p>“I am broadcasting from my throne room. As you can see. I have allowed these mammals, from the Union Army, access so that everyone can see what’s happening. So that everyone can bear witness to what will happen.”</p><p>The fox removed her contact lenses. The action revealed golden eyes, entirely unlike the blue eyes of the vixen I love. Then she started speaking more rapidly. The mammals in blue, around her, could be seen starting to react.</p><p>“For equality! For the Confederation,” the white furred fox said. “For you, my queen.” Then the screen went blank. </p><p>“Was that?” John asked, but he did not continue the question. The fact that the message ended suddenly was not a surprise, of course, but thinking about it, and seeing it, are not the same things.   </p><p>“No,” I replied. “Karo. He’s small for a male.”</p><p>“Sir,” one of the military aides reported, looking at Hopper. “Ground shock consistent with high yield conventional munitions detonation, or low yield nuke, at the correct bearing and within expected magnitude. Awaiting visuals from stealth units in the vicinity.”</p><p>“No sign of EMP effects,” another aide reported, a moment later. </p><p>“Thank you,” I replied, more of less at the same time Colonel Hopper said the same thing.</p><p>“They’re gone,” I said, to no one in particular. Around me, as if from far away, I could hear Hopper’s mammals going about their duties. One of their screens showed a visual of the area that had been Nova. It looked familiar, but the skyline was very different. The palace, or at the least the portion of it that we used to be able to see, was gone, and there was a great deal of smoke.  </p><p>Our signals people were getting a great deal of radio chatter from Union sources in the area. In code, mostly, but some in the clear. The clear signals sounded panicked, and I was glad, but I knew it would not last. Hopper said something about not getting their army commander. He didn’t sound especially disappointed, possibly because he didn’t want his soldiers to be discouraged. </p><p>After a few minutes, I excused myself to go to my office to be alone. So I could think. </p><p>I could send, that is, I could ask, Finn to look for her. If she made it, and I don’t want to think she didn’t, if she made it, she’ll be in one of the last refugee convoys. I’m not sure who else, with that sort of ‘good with his hands’ skillset that Finn has, might be available. I guess Judy might be able to do something like that, but she’s kind of tied here. Hopper might have some suggestions, but they wouldn’t be mammals I know. </p><p> </p><p>Some time later, there was a knock at my office door, and Judy Hopps came in. </p><p>“Nick?” She asked. “I thought we had an appointment?”</p><p>“Right,” I replied, and then looked at my calendar. Sure enough, 2 PM, Judy Hopps. And a note, ‘talk about Bogo.’</p><p>“I heard about what happened,” she said. “If you’ve rather do the meeting later-“</p><p>“Have you. Have you ever been in love, Judy?” I asked. I was going to say ‘Ms Hopps,’ but then I remembered that we’re not doing that anymore. Sometimes I wish everything would stay the same, even if things ARE better now. </p><p>“Yes,” she said. </p><p>“Finn?”</p><p>“No. We’re killers. We don’t really ‘do’ that love thing,” she replied, and turned away, as if to look at one of my books. “I don’t think we have the sort of ability to make that kind of close connection anymore. Or, I don’t, anyway. I know I used to, and I know I'm different now.”</p><p>She continued. “It was a buck I knew, many years ago. When I first came to Zystopia, and I had some trouble. He helped me, when he didn’t have to.”</p><p>“What was his name?” I asked. </p><p>“Nickolas, if you can believe it. Nick. Small time street hustler, you know? Rabbit. Handsome. Daring. I thought he might join the police force one day…”</p><p>She was silent, and I knew what that probably meant, but I felt like I had to ask anyway. </p><p>“What happened to him?”</p><p>“Trespassed at one of Bigg’s properties and got caught,” she replied. “Big iced him.”</p><p>“Ah,” I replied, with no idea what else to say. Big was publicly forgiven, by me and the rest of the council, after he rescued the police force from the mega fauna during their armed insurrection. Also, he’s one of my councilors because he has a power base.
I could take him out of play… I did it with Edward and with Francis, after all, with the help of Judy and James. Would James help me with this? Maybe. But the other councilors…. They might think I was killing off the competition. I might get a knife in the back from Jack at some point down the road. And of course Ursula Freidkin would have to go as well. </p><p>“I could get justice for your friend," I said, after I thought about it some more. “I’d need to get Jack and James into it. They’re working very closely together-“</p><p>“Yes. They’re lovers, you know,” Judy said. </p><p>“What?” I replied, somewhat cluelessly. </p><p>“Lovers. You know? They love each other?”</p><p>My mind went kind of blank, and I had this entirely irrational thought about how they might role play. And then my mind went even more blank. Apparently I have some weird, unresolved, issues about that. </p><p>“Nick?” Judy said. “You got kind of distant there.”</p><p>“Yeah. Sorry,” I replied. If I thought it would have helped, I would have shook myself. </p><p>“I don’t need you to help me get revenge,” she said, thankfully not knowing precisely where my mind had gone. “I’ve been working on that the whole time I’ve been here. Rising in the ranks, trying to become strong and important enough to take Big out. Now, I have the skills necessary to do it, and I might be able to survive the attempt. But. I don’t really want it anymore, or maybe just not as much.”</p><p>She didn’t say anything about Finn helping her, and for this, too, I was very glad. I don’t know what he would do, because he used to work for Big and now works for me, but I know he could do it. However, as my right hand mammal, that would be a nail in the coffin of my authority. </p><p>“So, we were going to talk about Bogo?” I asked, instead of what I was thinking. “What’s the problem?”</p><p>“Not really a problem. His health is not good. Ursula and I have been talking about it, and his stress might become a factor during council deliberations. We were thinking….”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is not long, possibly a day or two, after the end of Chapter 1.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Two Rabbits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kind of an aside, "slice of life" sort of thing. Jack and James are taking a day off.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Nice place,” Jack said. “And, hey, look, it’s got wheelchair ramps and at least one wide doorway.”</p><p>James groaned. As usual, he was walking behind Jack’s chair and, very obviously, not pushing it. This had been discussed, and would not be discussed again, at least not today. “Yes, it does. And I only screwed that up one time, and you’ve never let me forget about it.”</p><p>“Because they had a deal going and you wanted to save some money-“</p><p>“Oh, don’t even go there! It’s not like I get paid what you get!” James retorted, ears up and focused to the front. His eyes, however, were rolled back into his head until only the whites showed. </p><p>They entered the first room, and looked around. Colonel James Hopper, wearing what he thought of as his civilian disguise today, closed the door while Council Mammal Jack Savage wheeled his chair around the spacious area, checking out the various associated areas. He made no comments, so James assumed the other rooms must have also been to his liking.  </p><p>James sat and pretended to read a magazine while he waited for his partner to join him on the couch. He knew from the other times they had done this that Jack would wander around first, checking everything. </p><p>“We don’t have to meet at a hotel like this. We could meet at either my place or yours. Hell, I could have one of my mammals wait on us hand and foot!” James said, and laughed. He knew his aides might not be quite that accommodating. Some were more eager for promotion than others, and therefore more likely to say yes to nearly anything, but there were certain things that Hopper was unwilling to ask of his mammals. Kill and die? Yes. Pick up my dry cleaning? No.</p><p>“Oh, no you don’t! We’ve had this conversation. I don’t want anyone taking a picture and then having all that burrow gossip about who’s sleeping with whom, and why you’re not a female,” Jack replied. Ears down and glaring at his partner. </p><p>“You worry too much. I would still love you if you were unemployed,” Hopper replied, and Savage groaned. </p><p>It was Sunday afternoon, and they were, officially, reviewing information related to military preparedness at either Jack’s or James’ office. In fact, they were at a bed and breakfast in Bunnyburrow. </p><p>The proprietors, and various other citizens, knew who at least one of their guests were, of course, but Jack wasn’t sure how they felt about the precise nature of the relationship. He had never discussed his sexual preferences, but he really didn’t want to find out which of his neighbors might disagree with him, so he preferred to keep a somewhat low profile.</p><p>“Unemployed? Is that how you would describe my situation when I get caught in a scandal and then I get a vote of no confidence the next time my rabbit parliament calls an election?” The other mammal replied. They had had this conversation many times, and both knew that the average mammal didn’t seem to be as open minded about alternate sexual relationships, even within the same species, as the military mammals. On the other paw, that might also have had to do with Hopper’s status as the senior military mammal of Zystopia. </p><p>Hopper, realizing that he might have gone too far, changed the subject. </p><p>“So, what do you think of our fearless leader?” </p><p>Now, Jack’s tense body language relaxed, and he moved his chair so he could join James on the couch.</p><p>“I think he is,” Jack replied, because James seemed to actually want to know. “Fearless." </p><p>“Now, anyway. You knew him before prison, right?” James asked. </p><p>Jack shifted around to put his head in James’ lap, so the other rabbit could stroke Jack’s ears, but now he raised his head for a moment. </p><p>“Hey! Stop moving around like that!”</p><p>“Sorry. I was remembering something,” Jack replied. </p><p>“Want to share it?”</p><p>“Yeah… Nick, before the liberation, before he went to jail, sort of ‘pre-Nick’ was very different. Very unhappy with his life, you know? I heard him sobbing in a restroom stall one time.”</p><p>“Sobbing?”</p><p>“Yeah. You know how predators are. They forget how well we can hear, and he couldn’t smell me because of the various cleaning fluids in there.”</p><p>“You know it was him?” James asked. “It could have been someone else in that stall.”</p><p>“I saw him go in and then come out. Looking kind of red eyed, and playing it off as an allergy.”</p><p>The couple was silent a moment, thinking. </p><p>“Now? Predators are devoted to him. I wonder. Would that story hurt his rep?” James asked. </p><p>“No, probably not, even with their whole ‘I’m a badass!’ thing they do. This sort of thing would just make him even more relatable. They would assume, probably correctly, that he was upset about not being able to do anything about the pain collars.”</p><p>“So, what was he upset about?” James asked. “Did he say anything?”</p><p>“I don’t know, but if I had to guess, I would say ‘everything,’” Jack said. “He knew what was going on. How predators were treated. How much different his own treatment was, and how little he did for the others.”</p><p>“Hey, didn’t he say, one time, that rabbits like us were worthless?” James said, remembering. “It was on one of those talk shows, you know? Someone asked him one of those scripted questions about immigration policy or something?”</p><p>“Yeah, well, he was just giving everyone the party line. I asked him about it some time ago.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And he said ‘I didn’t believe it, even when I said it,’” Jack replied, attempting to mimic the fox’s voice. James nodded, and Jack continued. </p><p>“It wasn’t as if pre-Nick actually felt that way. It was Bellweather, even if Lionheart was officially in charge at the time.”</p><p>“Lionheart!”</p><p>“Remember him? Supposed to be the mayor, and he had to wear a collar because he’s a predator?”</p><p>“Even the cops, and firefighters had to-“</p><p>“Yeah, but, not soldiers. And leaders, like the Mayor, have to be treated differently.”</p><p>“Maybe Lionheart’s collar didn’t work?” </p><p>“Probably not. He was the mayor, after all. But his guards were all prey mammals, no doubt with orders related to what to do if he went off script.”</p><p>James kept stroking Jack’s ears, as they thought about it some more. </p><p>“Any news about the refugees from Nova?”</p><p>“Not yet. Finn seems to have disappeared, so Nick probably sent him to find Dora,” Jack said. </p><p>“I hope he does. Find her, that is. I never really met her, but I’ve heard good things,” James said. “Also, she’s got actual leadership training, while Nick… Well, he’s an extremely talented amateur, and learning as he goes. There are things about leadership that he just doesn’t understand.”</p><p>“Like what?” Jack asked. As the leader of Bunnyborouh, he knew quite a bit about leadership, but mostly from on the job training. Colonel James Hopper had actually been to a leadership school. It was military, not civilian, but it still counted, even if he was only a leftenant two years ago. </p><p>“Like the need to not tell everyone everything. He likes to confide in everyone, and he just sort of expects us to agree with him on everything, and us to tell him everything.”</p><p>“You don’t?”</p><p>“Oh, I do! And John, of course, but I’m not sure about Bigg.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I think Bigg really has turned over a new leaf, but I also think there are things about being a mob boss that Bigg misses, or, possibly, never stopped doing.”</p><p>“So, what do you want to do?” Jack asked. </p><p>“Oh? You’re not satisfied doing this?” James replied, amused because he knew they weren’t talking about work anymore. </p><p>“You know I am! I just… don’t want to waste our alone time.”</p><p>“Alone time? Is someone feeling neglected?” Jack asked, but he could sense the answer from the other male’s pheromones. </p><p>“Tell you what. Let’s take this into the bedroom and then we can take a bath…..”</p><p>“Carry me?” Jack asked, looking up into James’ smiling face. </p><p>“Anytime, love,” James replied.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Leave of Absence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A chapter with Professor Glover, before the events of Chapter 1, Volume 1. Starting in Zystopia, but then he travels.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are, of course, no humans in Zystopia, and they have chosen to be mostly isolated from the rest of their world. This chapter is intended to shed more light on one of the other societies that will have more impact in Volume 3.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zystopia, Five years before Z Day:</p><p>There are currently two embassies in Zystopia. One belongs to the Carnivore Confederation and the other to the Union of Herbivores. Travel by plane is limited to locations in those two nations. Aircraft, as a general rule, do not travel over water because everyone tends to have a kind of vague feeling that it isn’t safe, but they don’t know exactly why. </p><p>Planes, and boats, don’t venture out very far, or, if they do, they do so only with permission. Maps show other land masses, but very little is known about them. Travel is not encouraged, and ships and planes typically do not make round trips. Eventually, most mammals gave up on exploration, but everyone knows that anything is possible. You just have to know, and find, the right mammal.  </p><p>It was for this mammal that Professor Glover had been searching. </p><p>“How may I assist you?” The somewhat odd looking sheep asked, from behind a counter, in a store that looked like any other. His wool was trimmed, but not in any currently fashionable style. </p><p>“I’ve been told that you are the ‘go to’ mammal for… well, for going to places that one does not normally go,” the professor said. He had jumped up on the stool placed in front of the counter for smaller mammals like himself. Now, he found that he was not entirely sure what he was doing here. But he told himself it was too late to turn back now. </p><p>“What places?” the, probably, sheep replied. </p><p>“I’ve heard that there is a place with sentient reptiles,” the squirrel said, and gestured, vaguely. “I don’t know what it’s called.”</p><p>“Sentient reptiles? You refer to the Republic?” The clerk asked. “Why do you wish to go there?”</p><p>“I wish to learn,” the professor replied, with the sort of deceptive honesty that comes easily to those that don’t tell the whole story. </p><p>“I will ask and see if they’re interested in hosting a visitor like yourself, but I doubt they will say yes. If you don’t hear back, please assume the answer is no,” the sheep replied. “Good day.”</p><p> </p><p>University of Zystopia</p><p>“Students, this will be my final lecture here at this University, at least during this academic year. I am going on an extended sabbatical, traveling, as is required for our course of study, Mammalpology,” Professor Glover, PhD, Philosophy and Sociology, co-chair of these departments, said. A year had passed, and the squirrel had been granted the right to travel. </p><p>He looked at the students. All prey, of course. His teachers’ assistants, TAs, were all squirrels. Glover did not feel that predator or prey were better or worse than each other, but he did feel that squirrels were the superior race, and they were prey, and so It followed that prey were superior. If asked, Dr. Glover would say that he had many employees that were predators, but would admit that he had no actual ‘pred’ friends.  </p><p>He would not be a co-chair much longer, even if he had not been granted permission to visit the land of reptiles. His posts on Muzzlebook would have eventually lead to his forced resignation for his job here. Not because of the way he felt about predators. No, everyone he knew felt that way. It was because he didn’t agree that sheep were the superior race, and he had been foolish enough to put that in writing. Now, he was going to be unemployed, or, as his friends would say, ‘he’s seeking opportunities elsewhere.’ </p><p>“As all of you should know,” ‘but probably don’t,’ the squirrel said, and thought, “our world does not consist entirely of Zystopia and the two land mases on either side of us. I know that our schools encourage a certain isolationism, so that we may focus on our own problems. The rest of the world, after all, can look after itself. </p><p>“However, they have things to teach us, and so we can not simply ignore them,” the professor concluded. He had, as always, included the correct amount of pandering to the isolationist party line, even now when it didn’t matter. Old habits died hard. </p><p>His request, last year, for a temporary visa had not been granted the first time he asked. The first time, years before, had been simply ignored. He dared not simply rent a boat or a plane and fly off into the unknown. </p><p>And then, just last a few months ago, the Republic had issued him an invitation. The note included a cryptic explanation: ‘the white queen is preparing to move and mammals will need to be prepared.’</p><p>Grover knew who ‘the white queen’ probably was, but didn’t believe it. She was new on her throne, a known pacifist, known to dislike her job, and common opinion suggested that she did not care much what the mammals of Zystopia did do, or did not do, with their time. Or the mammals anywhere else for that matter. How could the Republic feel threatened?</p><p>What Glover didn’t know was the Republic had also been prepared to get him released from his academic post. It would have been a trivial matter to inform certain higher placed academic officials about certain comments on social media, and to then steer those mammals to the appropriate decision. There had already been bribes involved. Just to prepare the ground, of course.  </p><p> </p><p>The Republic. </p><p>“And now, here I am,” the professor thought, several months later. He was standing on a wharf in the port of the city of Reptopia. Travel by air had been forbidden. The boat had been stopped and inspected well before it entered the harbor, and Glover knew the boat was only allowed entry because of the makeup of the crew. </p><p>Many of the buildings and structures here was familiar, but the people were not. They were not mammals. They had climate control, and no hair. Nearly everyone seemed to have scales, not fur, but there were various sizes of them. All bipedal, and, apparently, sentient. At least one of them, thankfully not very close, was very large indeed. One of the smaller ones noticed Glover and walked over. </p><p>‘Even the way they walk is alien,’ the Professor thought. 'Almost like some sort of bird.'</p><p> </p><p>“Professor Glover. Welcome to Reptopia. Please follow me,” the guide said. His words were recognizable, at least. He had a way of standing absolutely still, and didn't gesture when he spoke. He really didn’t seem to be very much like the mindless amphibians with which Glover was familiar and had expected. </p><p>“Of course,” the squirrel replied, as the other turned and walked away. </p><p>They entered an open topped car, and the vehicle started moving away from the port. There were two other mammals, predators, already in the car, both otters, and they nodded in greeting. They didn't seem to be very happy to be here. </p><p>“Which habitat would you like to see first?” The guide asked. He moved like a bird, but one without wings, and his words were translated through a device around his neck. </p><p>“Anything you’re willing to show me,” the squirrel replied. </p><p>“Very well. We’ll start here, in what we think of simply as ‘central’ and then move on to artic regions, tropical, and then desert,” the guide said. "Cold, wet, and then, hot and dry." </p><p>“Ah. Sure,” the squirrel replied. He was surprised to find out that this place was so similar to Zystopia. </p><p>“You may ask questions. I will give you answers,” the reptile said.</p><p>“Ah. Yes. OK. What ah, what are those?” Glover asked, pointing. There were strange columns at various intervals. Each, a different color, or with various markings. </p><p>“Power lines. Or the markers for them, anyway. We keep power lines underground, like water and gas lines, when we need such things. The gas is oxidized at its destination for heat when an individual dwelling may wish to be warmer. It’s hopelessly primitive, but sometimes the old ways are best, and of course we have plenty.”</p><p>“How do you produce power? I assume you use electricity?”</p><p>There was a pause, possibly to determine if the question was a joke. “Yes, we use electrons for power. Other things as well, of course, what you call 'natural gas' for heat, if we wish”</p><p>“I don’t see the kind of massive walls around your city that I saw in Zystopia, but I understand this area is climate controlled?”</p><p>“Yes. We use force shields, of course. Large insulators are unnecessary, most of the time."</p><p>“Could you explain to me how those are made? What is the concept?” One of the otters asked, entering the conversation for the first time. </p><p>“Sure,” was the reply, and then a sound that might have been a laugh. “And I’ll tell you how to siphon energy from hurricanes, and how to store it in boxes.”</p><p>'Is that a joke?' Glover wondered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm not super happy with this chapter, but I've been changing it, and moving things around, and then taking things out and putting them back in long enough. Time to stop cutting bait and start fishing.  </p><p>See Chapter 14 of Volume 1 for Dr. Glover's introduction, one year before Z Day, and three years after the end of this chapter. And then, Chapters 10 and 21 of Volume 2. Dr. Glover is not seen in "Live by the Sword"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. On the Road</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finn, having borrowed a car, went looking for Dora.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Z+26 months, approx.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are, generally, two ways to find someone. Either find out where they’re going, and meet them there [or on the way there], or, more often, find out where they’ve been and follow the trail they left. The trail in this case was a line of mostly walking refugees, headed south, and it was easy to follow. Finding the haystack was easy. The hard part would be finding the needle.  </p><p>There were various Zystopian military vehicles, usually pairs of anti-aircraft or anti-drone vehicles, spread out along the dusty route the refugees from Nova were taking, on their way to Zystopia. The Union Army was not trying very hard to interrupt their progress, and so attacks were not very heavy or well coordinated. Mostly, that meant that the Union used airborne drones and harassing artillery fire instead of the ‘mammal wave’ sort of attacks that had eventually broken the Confederation Army. Zystopian soldiers have anti-artillery and anti-drone weapons, and so few refugees would be lost due to enemy action. </p><p>‘Now, if I was a member of the royalty, traveling undercover, where would I be? How close to the rear of this column?’ Finnius, “Finn”, Fox thought to himself, and hummed a tune under his breath. He had already spoken, and presented his credentials, to the Zystopian leftenant in charge of the soldiers in this area. That one, a coyote named Morgan, had only grunted, muttered something about ‘let me know if you need help’, and went back to his own duties, which mostly involved trying to get the refugees nearby to move faster. </p><p>Finn had an armored, and armed, all terrain, wheeled transport vehicle, with various recent modifications, and two assistants. The assistants were mammals he knew and trusted, but were not active military. The vehicle was experimental, and large enough to hold a dozen fox sized mammals in the cargo area because Nick didn’t know how many members of the royal household had made it out and didn’t think Dora would be willing to leave anyone behind. He did know her friends would probably choose to be left behind, if it meant the queen could survive. Finn had been asked to not make them choose. </p><p>And so, Finn had found himself headed north, cross country, and parallel to the road the refugees were taking. He stopped often and spoke to any group of canines he found, but didn’t give them all the details. He normally told them he was looking for his sister and her friends, and no one had yet challenged him for further information. </p><p>The group ahead had a vehicle, as some did, but it was carrying only passengers, unlike most of the others, and they were not moving very fast because their vehicle was so overloaded. Finn knew they should have been carrying more water, but he also knew that few of these mammals were the sort that had the kind of training he had. </p><p>There were more foxes in this group than any other he had seen so far. </p><p>There were a dozen or so walking, all canines, mostly foxes, of several types and colors. No white furred vixens, however. There were also some wolves, and even one or two prey mammals, and all of the ones riding were very young, injured, or very old. Some didn’t look like they belonged with the others. ‘Probably just slower moving and they’ve been overtaken by this group,’ Finn thought. The walking wolves had weapons, and the look of guards.</p><p>“Think we have a winner,” he said to Ron, his driver, before reaching the end of the line. “Park here. I’ll dismount and talk to them. Keep close, but don’t be too obvious about it.</p><p>“Call me ,” Finn said, motioning to his vehicle crew mammal’s helmet. “If I need to know something.”</p><p>“Yessir,” the squirrel replied. He would stay with the vehicle, in the driver’s compartment. If Union drones showed up, they might have to move fast to get away from the refuges before any shooting started. The refugees were moving toward them, and so the vehicle had stopped short. The squirrel knew to bring the vehicle if Finn, walking, passed it. </p><p>The refugees in this group did not, of course, stop when he approached, and then started walking in the same direction. </p><p>“Hey,” Finn said when he was close enough. Now that he could take their scent, they had a kind of harsh, exhausted, unwashed, feel. The nearest wolf was alert, but tired. He kept his own body between Finn and the vehicle at all times. </p><p>‘Skylar is probably in the vehicle, out of sight,’ Finn thought. ‘Maybe she’s driving or maybe she’s one of the injured in the back?’ He knew that royalty generally would not drive, and so it would be reasonable for her to blend in by doing something like that. </p><p>“State your business,” the wolf said. The foxes, and the vehicle, behind him kept moving at the same slow pace as before, but they were angling to move around Finn, but still keep on the road as much as possible. Finn moved off the road, and the wolf mirrored him. .  </p><p>“I expect you know. You can see where I came from?” The fox replied, gesturing behind himself, toward the south, and Zystopia. </p><p>“So? What do you want?”   The wolf asked. He was brusque, but not entirely unfriendly. The ears were not back and his rifle was not pointed directly at Finn, for the moment. </p><p>Finn could see the muzzles of the foxes in and on the vehicle turn toward him, as they passed. </p><p>“Nick sent me. I’m looking for Dora. I can get her to safety,” Finn said, simply. He could not smell the others as well, now that they were moving downwind. He could see they were all using fur coloring, and possibly scent block, so he would not, could not, be sure which mammal was her. The guard, of course, would know. </p><p>One of the foxes detached him, or possibly her, self from the group and joined Finn and the wolf. </p><p>“And you think that’s all it takes, eh? Kidnap my sister by offering-“ the fox started to say, but the wolf interrupted. </p><p>“No, I know this one. This is Nick’s chief bodyguard,” the wolf said, and then he turned around and whistled. Finn could not take the other fox’s scent, but he was fairly sure this was not Dora. </p><p>For a moment, nothing happened, and then the other wolf, still near the vehicle, grabbed one of the other foxes, who looked no different than any other of those walking. The wolf bound the vixen quickly, and expertly, with a rope that he might very well have been carrying for that purpose. </p><p>“Get your paws off me!” The vixen shouted at the wolf. Finn didn’t think she sounded like Dora, but now he was pretty sure that’s who it was. </p><p>‘I need to take her scent,’ he thought, as the other wolf dragged his captive closer. </p><p>The other wolf joined the first one, with his captive, as Finn made a hand motion and his vehicle moved closer. It stopped, and a large, heavy, door in the back swung opened. </p><p>Stepping closer to the bound fox, he inhaled as she glared at him, ears back. Finn nodded. </p><p>The wolves, with no further comment, loaded the still struggling vixen into Finn’s vehicle, and then closed the hatch from the outside. </p><p>“Aren’t you coming?” Finn asked. Now that both wolves were closer, the fox could sense a kind of relief from them, as if a burden had been removed.</p><p>One of them gestured to the closed hatch, and then the vehicle behind them. “She’ll want us to make sure this lot makes the rest of their journey safely,” he replied. “You don’t have room for very many, and certainly you can’t take them all. So, we’ll join you later.</p><p>“Also, she’s mad at us right now, and this will give her a chance to calm down. She’ll know that she can’t tell you to drop her off or some other foolishness.”</p><p>“OK, if that’s what you want,” Finn replied. </p><p>“Incoming!” Finn heard through his helmet earphones. He knew there must be drones nearby that had not been noticed, and those had called in fire.  </p><p>The refugees had already heard the artillery coming, of course, and had mostly scattered. Many flung themselves into the ditch by the side of the road, and others just lay down where they were. </p><p>Finn boarded the transport, and shouted instructions to the driver. “Go! Don’t wait. We’ve got what we came for!”</p><p>They sped away from the column, hearing the explosions as shells landed and then the squeal of the tracks of the nearest Zystopian army units. One of those, recently converted from a tank, started shooting skyward, but Finn didn’t know if he hit anything. </p><p> </p><p>Time passed in stony silence from the vixen. Silence that Finn ignored. </p><p>“Company coming,” the driver’s voice said in Finn’s helmet. The gunner, a rabbit named Jeff, gestured at one of his screens after Finn left Dora strapped in, in the aft portion of the vehicle, and entered the command area in the middle.</p><p>“See? Two drones,” the rabbit said.</p><p>‘Wonder if there are more?’ Finn thought. Aloud, he said to the driver, “Try to look frightened. When we take them out with our missiles, I want it to look like it wasn’t us.”</p><p>“Yessir,” the squirrel said. The rabbit only nodded. </p><p>Finn held on as the driver made a sharp turn, and then another, before the transport took several hundred rounds of machine gun fire. The bullets didn’t penetrate the armor or the shields. </p><p>“Stop. That would have at least disabled any normal vehicle, and that’s what we want them to see, and report,” Finn ordered, looking over the shoulder if the rabbit. </p><p>A tone sounded, and Finn nodded. “Give them two.”</p><p>“Missiles away,” the rabbit replied. </p><p>The autonomous weapons left a rack extended from the side of the transport, and headed toward the two drones, which avoided them easily. The missiles, however, were designed to attack from behind, and so they turned around and came back in. Neither drone tried to avoid the missiles. </p><p>“Splash two,” the gunner reported, unnecessarily, as both drones fell out of the sky. </p><p>“Resume course. South,” Finn ordered. “I’ll check in on our guest again.”</p><p>“Let the boss know?” The rabbit asked as Finn started to move toward the rear of the vehicle. </p><p>“Send the ‘mission accomplished’ code, but don’t add details. If he calls, let me know and I’ll talk to him.”</p><p>“Right,” the rabbit replied, and turned back to his screens.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Working on getting everyone in one place, Zystopia, for the final portion of the story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. In the Mayor's House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick expects a joyous reunion and then, possibly, a night of passionate lovemaking from a grateful queen, but finds that he’s been somewhat unrealistic.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the next day, compared to the last chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Skylar? Your majesty?” I asked, outside the door to the room I had given her on the second floor. It was afternoon, and Finn had brought her back this morning. There had been a welcome ceremony, complete with her subjects, the ones here in Zystopia anyway, lining the streets along her route and cheering, but she had barely participated. She had opened the top hatch of the transport and waved, but only stayed visible a short while. </p><p>That was this morning. Now, she was in the building, in the room reserved for the use of the Queen of Nova, but she refusing to speak to me. </p><p> </p><p>Giving up, I went to my office to work, and then had dinner, alone, and then went back to work. All the rest of the afternoon and evening, I had hoped that every time the phone rang, or someone visited my office, that it was her, or some word from her that she wished to speak to me. That evening, late, I went to bed, in my rooms on the third floor, as usual.</p><p>A thought occurred to me. I notified my guards, and waited, in my normal “I might need to deal with a mob” nightclothes, on the floor near the door, instead of in the bed. </p><p>Around midnight, she tried the door, found it unlocked, and let herself in. </p><p>“Nick?” She asked. She was very different from the monarch that had barely acknowledged me this morning and ignored me after that. Dressed far simpler, for one thing, in a dress she had left here weeks ago. I have known that Dora and Skylar never wore the same things, and they might very well have different favorite colors. Tonight, she wore a light blue dress with traditional, female, hood. </p><p>“Ah, Dora?” I asked. I got up and moved toward her, waiting for some sign of… well, anything.  </p><p>“Yes,” she replied, very quietly, when I was within arm’s reach. Now that we were closer together, I could smell her fear and uncertainty. She kept her head down, and muzzle pointed toward either my feet specifically, or the floor, in general. </p><p>“Are you OK?” I asked. </p><p>“No,” she replied, hugging herself. I moved closer to her, and she more or less collapsed into my arms. </p><p>Sobbing, she said, “Reynard. He’s. He’s gone, isn’t he?”</p><p>Surprised, I replied automatically, “yes. Killed in battle, last month. Franklin.” That had been the last possible terrain obstacle short of the city of Nova, and the Union had crossed the river and over run the Confederation positions on the high ground beyond.<br/>
Reynard, when he realized the horde of armed, and armored, grass eaters would not stop, had left the headquarters area and died with the majority of his mammals. They had fought, outnumbered, claw to hoof, at close range, and died in place. </p><p>I knew he had previously assigned one of his under generals the, to him, odious task of continuing the retreat with whatever was left. I know he believed that ‘duty is heavy, but death is lighter than a feather.' I understand the attitude, but I also think one should not avoid doing the right things just because those things might be harder.  </p><p>The vixen in my arms did not reply, so I lead her to the couch and we sat as she sobbed. I expect Dora has been in denial since the battle, hiding behind her duties as Skylar III. Well, I’ll help in whatever way I can. </p><p> </p><p>We ended up in the bed, but we did not mate. The fact that she dropped her dress when we got up from the couch, suggested that she would have said yes, or at least, not ‘no,’ had I asked, but her fragile emotional state suggested there might have been problems later. Problems like me having to admit, to myself, that I was being a selfish a hole, or possibly just a dick, for example.</p><p>I did run my claws through the hair on her head, breathed in her scent, and I held her tightly for as long as I was awake. I missed her. Very much. </p><p> </p><p>In the morning, or later in the morning, that is, I woke up first and covered her with a sheet while I used the restroom. When I came back, I got a surprise. </p><p>She was awake, holding the sheet up against her neck, and staring at me like I was some stranger. </p><p>“Dora?” I asked, backing up a bit. Her scent, which had been a kind of contentment, was now harsh. Anger, and some small amount of fear. But why?</p><p>“I am Queen Skylar III, supreme monarch of Nova, leader of the Confederation,” she replied. As she said this, she lifted her muzzle and squared her slender shoulders, trying to look more regal. </p><p>At first, I thought it was a joke, but her scent did not change. </p><p>“Ah, Ok. Your majesty?” I replied, moving closer cautiously. “What is, um, that is, is something wrong?”</p><p>“You kidnapped me!” She replied, ears back and almost snarling. “And took my garments!”</p><p>“First, I sent Finn to save you, and of course he brought you here,” I replied, counting on my fingers, and trying not to let my own ears go back “Second, you came to my room on your own. </p><p>“Third…. Your dress is right there. Where you took if off,” I concluded, and gestured to the pile of clothes near the couch.</p><p>She looked, and then seemed to deflate, shoulders slumping. </p><p>“Yes,” she said. “Finn. The short fox that smells like a bunny.</p><p>“I remember….. Clyde tied me up and tossed me in the transport. There was a parade. And then…. You?” She concluded, looked away, and gestured somewhat vaguely with her free hand. </p><p>“Me?” I replied. “Yes, um. Me, I guess,” I had no idea where she was going with this. She seemed very confused. Uncertain.   </p><p>“How about this?” I asked, and went to stand at the foot of the bed, facing away from her. “I’m going to-“</p><p>Behind me, I heard a thump, a rustle of clothes, running feet, and then the bathroom door opened and shut. And then I heard the click of the lock after I turned to look. </p><p>“Well, OK, then,” I said, and continued my own, now somewhat abbreviated, with no access to a sink, morning routine by getting dressed. I gathered the various parts of my suit, including the carbon fiber jacket and pants, both designed to look as if they’re either heavily starched or just heavy material. These had slots for what I referred to as ‘extra features’, but were actually stainless steel or ceramic plates designed to slow or stop fast moving rifle rounds. There were also hats and various cravat looking garments made of the same bullet resistant materials, but I seldom wore those indoors. </p><p>Getting shot tends to cause one to be more interested in wearing armor, after all. </p><p> </p><p>I went downstairs and found James, the butler. </p><p>“See that my guest has food, but don’t intrude on her privacy unnecessarily. She has the run of the house, but I would prefer she stays in the room, for now, because she seemed somewhat disoriented,” I told him. He listened politely and didn’t remind me that he knows how to do his job. He nodded. </p><p>“Yes, sir,” he said, and turned away. His scent, I noticed, indicated a kind of bored indifference instead of annoyance. I wondered what that meant. </p><p>I went to the council chambers next. I was the only one there, so I summoned the others with Meeting software. </p><p>Bigg and Savage answered more or less immediately. “Yes, Nickolas?” Bigg’s image said, seated as usual in his chair. Savage, from his, very different, chair, only nodded, and cocked his head. </p><p>“Right. I wanted to give everyone an update on the Novan situation,” I said, and activated the ‘Record’ equipment. Bigg and Savage saw it, of course, and were doubtless unsurprised. Bogo, John Smith, Colonel Hopper, and Dr. Glover were not here, after all, and I wanted to be sure they knew they were only excluded because this was a spur of the moment thing. </p><p>“Finn has collected Queen Skylar and she is now recuperating in my quarters upstairs,” I said. </p><p>“As expected,” Bigg replied. “You didn’t tell us you were sending Finn, but it was no surprise, of course. How is she?”</p><p>I considered making a grammar joke, or possibly pointing out that Finn is fine, but I didn’t. Instead, I started to say, “she-“.</p><p>I noticed her scent, then, and stood up as she entered the room. Bigg and Savage noticed my movement, but didn’t see or smell her, of course. The holograms just show the person, not their surroundings. </p><p>“Have a seat,” I said, and gestured to John’s place. </p><p>“Mammals,” I said, as the chair recognized an occupant and the video feed activated. “This is Skylar the Third, monarch of Nova.”</p><p>They each nodded, but did not stand, of course. “Welcome, your majesty,” Bigg said. </p><p>“Welcome,” Savage said, after a pause. Later, I would think about his body language and notice that he was more uncomfortable than might be expected. </p><p>Skylar just waved, saying nothing. She was wearing the dress, with hood, from last night, which was a bit of a surprise. She had some other clothes here, dropped off during other visits. I suppose she must have come straight here from the bathroom. </p><p>“So, anyway, as I was saying,” I continued, sitting back down and looking at Skylar and then back to the video pickup. “The queen is here, and so Finn was successful. Attacks on the refugee column have continued, including one yesterday, but Colonel Hopper assures me that casualties have been minimal….”</p><p> </p><p>After the meeting, the others having signed off, I deactivated the recording from my own position at the table and looked a question at John Smith. The wolf had joined us about halfway through the meeting and sat, somewhat uncertainly, at the place normally taken by Hopper. </p><p>“Ah. Sorry, your majesty? I am John Smith, councilor for Zystopia, servant of the mammals,” he said, to the vixen, indicating that he had no specific role, unlike Bigg, Savage, Bogo, Hopper, and Glover. However, he was physically present, and he knew I would expect him to be able to work with the Queen. </p><p>“Mr. Smith,” she murmured, but did not continue. </p><p>“John? Would you give us a moment?” I asked him. </p><p>“Of course, boss,” he replied, nodding to me, and getting up. </p><p>“My lady,” the wolf said to the vixen, before leaving the room. </p><p>“So… how are you?” I asked. I wondered if this was indeed Skylar or if she was thinking of herself as Dora at the moment? I had said Skylar so as not to confuse the council members. I will have to discuss the rather unique situation related to her apparent mental condition later, of course. </p><p>She must have noticed my concern. “Nick. Don’t worry. I’m not going round the bend. It’s just been a hard last few weeks. And months.”</p><p>“Is there anything I can do?”</p><p>“Just, give me some time,” she replied.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember that Skylar calls her wolf guards “Bonnie and Clyde”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Watching the Battle of Zystopia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Union Army arrives, and fighting occurs.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, here we are. Anyone have any suggestions?” I asked.</p><p>A great stunning silence answered me. We knew this day would come, of course. We’ve been watching the Union Army moving toward us for weeks now. We saw the last of the refugee caravans come in, and then we, symbolically, closed the gates behind them. Now, that great, shambling herd was only a couple day’s march from those gates. They could not hurt us by shooting at us from outside, because of our shields, but they could force their way into the city through the various openings. Unless they were stopped. </p><p>Now, we needed to talk to them. To at least pretend that some sort of peace was possible. Not all of us wanted peace, however.  </p><p>“I have a question,” Jack Savage asked, from his place on my left. As the councilor for external affairs, talking to enemy armies is really his affair. Killing those armies is someone else’s job.  </p><p>I nodded, and he continued. “Why are we bothering with this charade? Ignore their offers, which we know are meaningless. Wait for them to gather on the plains nearby, like they did with Nova. Then activate the weapons when enough of them are in range and-.”</p><p>“Because,” I replied, interrupting him before he could continue. “That army of theirs is made up of mammals. With families. And I don’t want to think I didn’t at least TRY to give them a chance to live. To change their minds.”</p><p>“But they won’t change-“ Jack started again, only to be interrupted, again. </p><p>“Let them burn. As you sow, so shall you reap, after all,” the other fox at the table said. Her title was Queen Skylar III, of Nova. However, her city is now a hole in the ground, with mass graves dug by the Union Army.  </p><p>Jack looked annoyed, so I added, “sorry. We’re all a little excited, at the moment.”</p><p>He nodded. “Anyone else?” I asked. </p><p>Again, there was no reply, so I made my announcement. “Fine. I’ll pick someone. Bigg? You’re our emissary. You’ll talk to them.”</p><p>I had been thinking about picking Jack, but now I was thinking that he might not set quite the right tone. Also, I knew Bigg would expect to be the mammal chosen to talk to someone like this general. He would not, of course, demand the right, but he would expect it. And I knew he would be very good at it.  </p><p>“Of course, Nickolas,” the shrew replied. “I assume you’ll give me free rein to handle the negotiations how ever I like?”</p><p>“Yes. How ever you like, but,” I admonished, wagging a finger in Bigg’s general direction, or his image anyway, and making eye contact with the other council members. “However. We’ll be listening in.” </p><p>Bigg nodded. </p><p>“Let us know when you’re ready,” I concluded.</p><p>“Very well,” the former, and probably current, mob boss of Tundratown replied, and then cut the circuit. </p><p>“Anyone else have comments?”</p><p> </p><p>The call came in from the Union, and so we all gathered virtually or in person, as usual, around the table. </p><p>“Mr. Bigg?” I asked, and he nodded, opening the circuit. </p><p>A rather amused looking, and probably very large, buffalo appeared. This one was very little like our police commissioner, Mason Bogo. For one thing, this mammal seemed to have no dress sense, and was almost covered in what I could only assume were medals. Also, I knew Bogo kept his word, once given. </p><p>“General,” Mr. Bigg said to the image while the rest of us listened, our microphones on mute. “Greetings.”</p><p>“And just who are you?” The Union general replied. “And you will address me as ‘your excellency.’”</p><p>“You may call me either ‘Mr. Bigg’ or ‘Sir,’” the shrew said. Then he waited while the buffalo thought about that. </p><p>When it looked like the buffalo was about to speak, probably to remind Bigg about the excellency thing, Bigg added, “Also, I will not refer to you as your excellency. You are a general, not a head of state.”</p><p>“Very well, I had been planning to go easy on you. Now, I won’t,” the herbivore replied. </p><p>“I am sorry to hear that,” the shrew replied. Then he waited. </p><p>“I was going to say the same,” Mr. Bigg added when it looked, again, as if the buffalo would speak.</p><p>Now the buffalo paused, perhaps puzzled, but then he shook it off like an annoying fly. </p><p>“Despite your insulting tone, and words, I will give you, and the mammals illegally ruling Zystopia, a chance to surrender.”</p><p>“How kind of you, but I feel I must point out that the mammals that are ruling Zystopia aren’t doing it illegally. I know because I’m one of them. And it’s quite legal,” the shrew said. </p><p>“I’m going to give you a chance, now, to walk away. Do not come back. Get back on your ships and go back to Union territory. Trouble us, and the Carnivore Confederation, no more. And we won’t kill you or your mammals,” Bigg said. </p><p>“You’ve got a lot of-“ the buffalo started to say. </p><p>“Yes or no?” Big asked. </p><p>“Screw you and the mammals with whom you fornicate,” the buffalo replied, and cut the line. </p><p>“I thought that went fairly well, didn’t you?” John said, into the silence. </p><p>“Right. I need to call Hopps,”I said. I made eye contact with Hopper and he nodded. </p><p>“Just in case,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>A day passed, and we could see the Union army advancing. They were just starting to come within our reach; just starting to fill the other side of the plains on the East side of the city. I was reminded of the video from the attack on Nova, several months ago. They did the same there, but of course Nova had no walls to delay invaders on foot, and no weather control technology to prevent artillery. And no super futuristic weapon system designed by a traveling squirrel. </p><p>“Control?” I asked, activating the line to the weapon control room, not very near my current position, high enough to see the enemy with my own eyes. “Go for the ones in the rear, so that the ones in front can have a chance to run away.” </p><p>Nothing happened. </p><p>“Well?” I asked into the communicator. </p><p>“Sir. Dr. Glover is here and-“ they started to reply. </p><p>I switched channels. “Hopps? Glover is causing trouble in main control. Please take care of him.”</p><p>“Right,” she replied. </p><p>Minutes passed and the Union soldiers got closer, and the ones in front, nearest to us, started shooting at the portion of the walls not covered by the shield. If we didn’t-</p><p>"This is Skylar. I am in main control," the communicator said. </p><p>The weapons activated. </p><p> </p><p>Have you ever wondered what ants feel like, if they’re close enough to see the magnifying glass, but not in the path of the beam? The focused sunlight, coming from Zystopia, as we watched, on the city walls. The city's shields kept out the smell, but we could see as much as we wished. The effect spread like wild fire, on a plain of dry grass, but or maybe more like a finger or a paint brush, putting black on a formerly green and brown canvass. </p><p> </p><p>After a few seconds, the weapon shut back down, and there was silence until the mammals on the plain shouted, and, if it were possible, redoubled their attack. </p><p>“Control? Take the ones nearest to us. Stop shooting when they start running, and don’t kill the ones that run,” I said. </p><p>The beam started up again, the effects, once again, very apparent.  </p><p>“I am reminded that our ancestors,” John said, next to me. “Used to eat them. Not cooked like this, of course.”</p><p>His eyes were wide open and he smelled like he was in shock, but I don’t think he was looking at anything in particular. We could not smell the effects of the weapon through the atmospheric shields, of course. </p><p>I stared at him, totally unable to find the right words. </p><p>He noticed, and looked back toward me. “What?” He asked. </p><p>"Skylar?" I said into the radio. There was no reply. </p><p>I had hoped not to need the weapons for more than a few seconds, maybe only another minute. I knew the enemy would run, eventually, and then we could cease fire. However, the weapons kept going, back and forth, entirely destroying every enemy vehicle, and killing every soldier, it could reach. After several minutes, control shut the weapons down.</p><p>And then, our troops, with smaller weapons, went out, rounding up stragglers. No survivors fought. They were too stunned. </p><p>We disarmed and bound the survivors and tried to catch the ones that ran. Their general had not, of course, committed his entire army to the attack. There hadn’t been room for more than about half of them. The others? We didn't see them that day. Just discarded equipment in locations our city based weapons could not reach. </p><p> </p><p>We did not catch their Army commander that day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Union General never really got a name, and I never really saw much point giving him a name.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. After the Battle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So, some slice of life stuff, with comments about what else may be going on, and some foreshadowing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Most of the time, it’s good to be the mayor. I mean, I’m a king in all but name. My girlfriend is a queen. No one questions my authority, especially now that we won the most important battle since the founding of the city. </p><p>However, my duties never stop. I have to be king all the time, and sometimes I want to just be a regular mammal. Not that I would know what such a thing would be, really, because I’ve never really been just a regular anything.  </p><p>“So, boss. What now?” John asked. </p><p>We’ve been back from the observation area only a few minutes. Most of the city is currently celebrating, or preparing to celebrate, as the news spreads. Some mammals are walking around in a kind of daze. Shocked, but by relief, not fear, now. </p><p>“Call a meeting of the council,” I replied, automatically. That’s my generic answer for everything. We’re out of bread? Call a meeting. We just won a victory so overwhelming that I have no idea what to do now? Call a meeting. </p><p>I got out my pocket computer while I waited at my usual spot, at the head of the table. I don’t actually get messages, usually, but I do have several social media feeds and there is game that involves little colored symbols that I can move around.  </p><p>“Nickolas?” Mr. Bigg’s voice asks, some time later. He sounds oddly concerned, and so I look at the time. My computer is still turned off, and several minutes have passed. I look up, and they, or their images, are all gathered around. </p><p>“Right,” I replied, disoriented. </p><p>“I must have zoned out.” I can tell by some of the looks that it wasn’t very long, really, but I can also tell that some of them, most of them, were probably multitasking, or, possibly, playing a game like I was going to do. Or I thought I was? </p><p>“So. Colonel Hopper is not here, but I expect he’s in the command center, directing activities to round up the Union survivors?” I asked the table. </p><p>I was unsurprised when Savage answered, from his chair. ”That’s right. It’s still too early to be sure, but all signs are positive.”</p><p>“Excellent. Very good,” I replied. “We will expect a full report from him later, possibly tomorrow?”</p><p>Savage nodded.</p><p>“And possibly a parade?” John asked, and the others looked thoughtful. </p><p>“Hmmm. Not yet,” Mr. Bigg said. “I think we need to wait until things calm down a bit, and we can get all the soldiers back here to participate.”</p><p>Heads nodded around the table. We all knew that about half of our army was in former Confederation territory, chasing the remains of the Union Army. We had already discovered a group of them trying their paws at running a small town. They were truly bad at it, and nobody complained at all when our mammals went in to chase the blue coats out. No, they complained later, when our soldiers left to deal with other groups of Union troops in other towns. </p><p>“So, to other business,” I said, and quirked an eyebrow at Mr. Bigg. “Some things I’d like to suggest. Now is the time to think, if you’ll pardon the pun, big. </p><p>“First, I think this means the emergency is over, so I’d like to propose general elections, as soon as possible,” I said. </p><p>“While we’re still popular, you mean?” John asked, amused. </p><p>“That’s right. And we get to brag about keeping our promises,” I replied. "I was thinking that everyone would participate-"</p><p>“Not everyone, I hope? I would rather not participate in any sort of,” Bigg said, gesturing the way he does when he finds something repulsive. "Election." </p><p>“Of course, you don’t have to," I replied, placatingly. "However, I would like someone from Tundratown to stand for elections. Not you, but perhaps some family member?” Someone you can control, in other words. </p><p>“Of course,” he replied. </p><p>“Jack, you already do elections in Bunnyburough, right?”</p><p>“You know I do,” he replied, “but I don’t call those. My parliament-“</p><p>“Yes, but if everyone else is doing it, why not you as well?” I asked. "It's not much like jumping off a bridge."</p><p>“Because my opponents will know why it’s being done. And they’ll try and stop me,” he replied.</p><p>“I don't think they'll succeed. In any case, I want to go on to the second order of business. Let’s look at changing the name of the city,” I said, and then continued before anyone could react. </p><p>“Third, I’d like to look at a means of succession. I don’t actually want to do this job forever, but I don’t want to let some incompetent do it, either.”</p><p>“How would you want to do that? Some sort of general election for your position, again, every few years on some sort of regular schedule?” Jack asked.</p><p>“No. It’s been tried before," I replied. "The problem is, as you know, that leaders chosen that way are not usually chosen because they’re more qualified. They’re usually just really good at saying what people want to hear, or they’re photogenic, like you. Point is, they’re not necessarily the best mammal for the job.”</p><p>Savage laughed. "Can't argue with that."</p><p>“So,” Mr. Bigg asked. “What do you suggest?”</p><p>The discussion that followed was spirited, to say the least, and I smiled. I like to keep things moving. Not too fast, but I would far rather be proactive than reactive, if I can, and this is the best way I’ve seen to do that. </p><p>I didn’t know it yet, but we were only weeks away from becoming an empire.</p><p> </p><p>I was in my office hours later looking at various options and following up on things we had discussed, when Judy came to get me. </p><p>“Time for a break,” she said. “We’re going to play a game. Or, we'd like to, anyway.” She looked impatient, and, when I noticed it, her scent suggested a great deal of time spent with Finn recently. </p><p>I barely looked up. “I have a great deal to do-“</p><p>“Dora will be there,” she interrupted, “we need a fourth.” </p><p>Well, THAT changes things. “Right. Let me just log off,” I said, and saved the most recent document and then locked my screens. </p><p> </p><p>As it turned out, the players were Finn and Judy, and Dora and I. Jack Savage, and then John Smith dropped by, briefly, but then Jack had to go back to Bunnyborough to see and be seen, and John had to mind the store downstairs. Somebody had to do it, even if the governmental situation was as quiet as it’s ever been. </p><p>Most of the citizens are celebrating, and I expect quite a few of them are drunk. I wondered, idly, how many children will be conceived tonight, or later this morning? It’s not something I can do, of course, after my time in predator prison, but having a replacement for my duties on the council has also been on my mind. </p><p>Finn, Judy, Dora, and I has several games from which to choose, but they seemed to prefer the one that involved drawing on a board, and having everyone try to guess what it was. We tried boys against girls, and couples against each other. We started without alcohol, but didn’t stay that way.</p><p>At some point, after at least an hour, and I don’t know how much wine, Finn drew something extremely suggestive, and then he and Judy started making out, so I took Dora’s paw and lead her out to give them privacy. </p><p>“So,” she said, out in the hall. “That kind of gives me an idea. Do you know what it might be?”</p><p>I smiled. “Well-“ </p><p>She licked my muzzle to shut me up, and then walked away. I followed, and she went to her room without a backward glance. I nodded to the wolf guard, whose name, I had recently discovered actually was Clyde. </p><p>“Good morning, sir,” he said, and then held the door open. </p><p>I nodded to him, went in and paused while he shut the door behind me. I found Dora standing by the bed, waiting for me. </p><p>“Remember this?" She asked and then knelt, facing the door. </p><p>"Who are you and what brings you here, stranger?” She asked. </p><p>So, a new games. A little role playing? I hurriedly tried to think of what she would expect me to say in this situation, and what she had said the last time, when our roles were reversed. ”I’m… Uh. I’m Gideon, and it’s my job to… check the… thing. And the other thing.” </p><p>She rolled her eyes, and I detected a certain amount of amusement in her scent. I did not, of course, try to explain why I was so bad at this. </p><p>“Well, do be quick about checking the thing. When you’re done with that, whatever it is, I’ll be waiting,” she said and climbed onto the bed. Then she looked at me, and I went to her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trying out some slightly different character interactions.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's a work of fiction, intended entirely to entertain. I hope you like it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>